


Take it from me

by bannanachan



Category: Persona 5
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 03:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 27,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12856188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bannanachan/pseuds/bannanachan
Summary: After a fight in Mementos once, Morgana had asked Akira if he'd always been this angry. It wasn't an insult; if anything, he heard admiration in their voice. He told them no. It was the truth. Growing up, he hadn't had any reason to be angry. His home life was fine, his grades were fine, he was social. He'd never caused trouble, never had an outburst. When they came for him, it didn't matter. His day in court was the first time he ever clenched his fists so hard that his palms started to bleed where his nails made contact, and all he can remember thinking was that he didn't realize that could happen in real life.





	1. Chapter 1

After a fight in Mementos once, Morgana had asked Akira if he'd always been this angry. It wasn't an insult; if anything, he heard admiration in their voice. He told them no. It was the truth. Growing up, he hadn't had any reason to be angry. His home life was fine, his grades were fine, he was social. He'd never caused trouble, never had an outburst. When they came for him, it didn't matter. His day in court was the first time he ever clenched his fists so hard that his palms started to bleed where his nails made contact, and all he can remember thinking was that he didn't realize that could happen in real life.

If he hadn't found Arsene, he thinks he might have been a disaster. It's not a cure, just a channel. Which is fine, because now he can't imagine living without anger. He can't fathom how anyone does. It’s not everything, it doesn’t consume him, but it matters. When your back’s against the wall, and you need a way out of the fear, anger matters. When the things that you love are threatened, when the people you love are threatened, anger matters. Sometimes, it’s the only way for them to know that they matter, too.

***

He notices it when they go to the diner together after being cornered by Makoto. Ryuji only orders a coffee, and Ann asks for a salad, while Akira is stress eating his way through an entire steak. Yusuke orders nothing, and when pressed, says he isn’t hungry. But he can hear his stomach growling from across the booth.

He sends a casual text to Ann on the subway the next morning, asking if she noticed too: she had. They have other things on their plate, so he doesn’t push it. But when they beat Kaneshiro, and go out to celebrate, he notices it again: the mild panic in Yusuke’s voice, the excitement mixed with fear whenever food is involved. He can’t help it. He looks at Ann, and Ann looks back, but no one else seems to notice.

He knows he should think it over before he does anything. He should be smart, he should be careful, he doesn’t want to intrude. But mostly, he’s afraid, and it doesn’t take long for the fear to win out.

He texts Yusuke on the train to school, hits send before he can change his mind.

_Can you come to Leblanc tonight?_

He doesn’t write a reason. Yusuke takes a few hours to reply.

_I can be there at 21:00._

That evening, he goes to work after school, takes the money to the store, buys what he needs, and heads straight home. He waits upstairs for about half an hour before he goes back down and stands around slightly too close to the tables until Leblanc’s last customer finally leaves, shooting daggers at him as they go. A few minutes later, Sojiro leaves too, and he gets to work.

Yusuke walks through the door startlingly on time. Before he can even say hi, Akira drops a plate of curry on the bar.

Yusuke stops, looking bewildered. “What is this?”

“Curry. It’s not as good as Sojiro’s, sorry. I’m still practicing. I can make coffee too, if you want any, but I didn’t know if you liked to drink that at night.”

Yusuke sets his bag on the floor and then slowly sits down on the bar stool. He takes a few bites in silence, then sets down his spoon and looks up at Akira, expression bordering on concern. “Why?”

Akira scowls, trying to come up with a good answer. “I was worried about you, I guess.”

Yusuke shakes his head. “Akira, I appreciate the concern, but I can take care of myself.”

He replies without thinking. “I respectfully disagree.”

Yusuke’s face turns red, maybe from anger, maybe from embarrassment. “You don’t – respectfully, while I deeply appreciate everything that you’ve done for me, I will not tolerate being treated like a charity case. I’m quite aware of my circumstances, but you don’t – I don’t…”

He trails off. Akira looks down at the counter, concentrates on where his nails are biting into his palm, stays calm, and looks back up. “None of us are charity cases.” He says firmly. “But it’s okay if you can’t take care of yourself all the time. You’re with us now. The Phantom Thieves look out for each other.”

For a moment, Yusuke looks like he might cry. Then he picks up his spoon and starts eating again. A few bites in, he pauses. “I’ll take that coffee, if you don’t mind.”

A wave of relief washes over Akira. He tries not to show it as he sets about starting the coffee, and Yusuke eats in silence as he prepares two cups. He sets one down in front of Yusuke and he sips it, and smiles. “What a remarkable pairing. Did Sojiro teach you all this?”

Akira nods. “Like I said, I’m still practicing. His stuff is better. Don’t know how he does it. I don’t think he’ll teach me, either.”

Yusuke laughs warmly, and Akira takes a sip of his own coffee. The bitter brew is enough to keep him grounded. For some reason, he feels as if without it, his heart would go flying from his chest.

“I’m sorry.” Yusuke says. “For that outburst.”

“Don’t be.” Akira says quickly, almost interrupting the other boy in his haste. “Please, don’t be. I probably should have just asked first, honestly.”

Yusuke smiles and shakes his head, and Akira takes another sip of coffee. “Perhaps. But this was… cute.”

Akira blushes, and takes a third sip of coffee before beginning to tidy up the kitchen. He gets halfway done before curiosity overtakes caution and he’s talking again, continuing to putter as he does. “Is it a money thing? Because if you need money for food, we can…”

“Yes and no.” Yusuke says. “Sometimes I simply forget to eat, when I’m immersed in my work. I can eat on my scholarship at the school cafeteria, but I prefer not to. It’s tasteless, and the company is far from pleasant. Truthfully, I’m just… not accustomed to it. Back at home, with Sensei…”

He trails off. Akira digs his fingernails into his palm again. Takes a deep breath. Stays calm. Turns around, so he can see him.

“He never failed to let us know how much money we – how much money I cost him.” Yusuke says quietly. “He’d tell me how much supplies cost, how much a meal cost. It was one of the things he’d say when someone – objected – to his use of their work. He would remind them how difficult it was to care for us, how many artists he was trying to support. He would remind us how noble it was to live the way we did. I knew how much his work sold for, and how little we had. It never added up, but I believed him.” He pauses. “How foolish I’ve been.”

Slowly, Akira sits down on the stool behind the bar. He wraps both hands around his cup. He doesn’t want Yusuke to see them shaking. He sips, and finds the coffee has gone cold, and the bitterness isn’t as grounding as it was before. He feels like hitting something. He feels like hurting someone back. He always does, these days.

He takes a deep breath, reaches out a hand, and sets it atop his friend’s. Yusuke looks up, expression puzzled and hurt, and Akira’s heart collapses like a dying star.

“Do you want me to teach you how to make curry?” He asks.

Yusuke’s face brightens, and Akira can’t help how his does in return, and in seconds the both of them are laughing.

“Maybe Sojiro can teach us together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter is a one-shot, and was supposed to be the whole fic, but I decided to have a go at writing long-form fic chapter by chapter and now it's maybe the longest thing I've written since I used to do NaNoWriMo.


	2. Chapter 2

You can’t eat curry every night, so Akira makes a point of inviting the whole group of them to eat together at least twice a week after that. They all pool their money, and no one complains, or even mentions it, if Yusuke doesn’t put any in. He casually suggests to Ann that she and Makoto take Yusuke with them to a café, hopes that they’ll do it regularly. If it’s the three of them, the girls don’t have to worry about it being a date. Although he’s pretty confident by now that Yusuke going on dates with Ann is a non-issue.

In July, he works up his courage and invites Yusuke out himself. Just the two of them, to the diner in Shibuya. Yusuke accepts graciously. If he notices how red Akira’s face is when he asks, he doesn’t say anything about it.

Yusuke gets there first, and Akira apologizes for being late, but he brushes it off. They arrive at a booth and order, Akira making sure to order enough for two. Their conversation stops and starts, but somehow, it doesn’t feel awkward. He’s surprised how easy it is, how unselfconscious he feels about being here with him alone. It’s blissful, and he wants to stay there all afternoon.

Five Shujin students walk into the dining area, three boys and two girls. They walk past their table and set down a little ways away without bothering them, but it doesn’t matter, he’s seen them now. Akira is surprised at how quickly his mood can shift, how quickly his heart starts beating. More than surprised, he’s shocked. He didn’t realize he was still so shakable. He tries not to show it, but he must do something, because Yusuke tilts his head, suddenly alert. “What’s wrong?” He asks. He sounds more confused than worried.

"Nothing, it's fine." Akira replies, shaking his head. "I just got distracted, sorry. What were you saying?"

"We were discussing the impact of woodblock printing on the art world. Akira, are you sure you're alright? You're a bit pale."

"Am I?" He tries to sound sincere. "I guess I haven't slept well lately in the heat. The attic gets pretty warm."

He wants to say more, to come up with a better story, but the sound of voices carried from two booths over makes him stop, spine going stiff.

"...That transfer student from school? You know, the delinquent one?" The girl's voice is high-pitched, but completely audible. She's making no attempt to conceal herself, or the subject of her conversation.

"Yeah, but who's he with? I’ve seen his face before, but he doesn’t go to Shujin…"

“Maybe he’s a thug, too.”

“Maybe he’s his boyfriend.”

A chorus of laughter, interrupted with a squealing voice. “Cut it out, guys, I’m serious! He’s scaring me!” But she had laughed too, he heard it.

“He’s too chickenshit to do anything where he could be seen doing it, don’t worry.” This from one of the boys. “Don’t worry about it. Even if he did, I’d protect you.”

“I don’t want to get in trouble.” One of the girls, a voice that hadn’t spoken yet.

“We ain’t done anything wrong, we’re just eating.” The boy again. “What, don’t tell me you’re actually scared of him?”

Another round of laughter. Akira feels hot, knows he must have turned bright red. He’s embarrassed and angry at once. He wants to calm down, he needs to calm down, he doesn’t understand why he’s not calm already. When it’s at school, he never gets this bothered any more, he can let it go with practiced ease. He doesn’t realize what’s different now until it’s too late, and Yusuke has stood up from the table and marched the ten feet over before Akira notices he’s gone.

“We aren’t deaf.”

He’s standing right there, next to their table, separated by a few feet at most.

“And even if we were, it’s not an excuse for such vulgarity. You are entitled to an opinion, but I would suggest you continue your conversation outside. There is no need to drag the occupants of this café into your indecency.”

Akira is on his feet and at his side in seconds, grabbing his elbow. “Leave it, Yusuke. Let’s go.” He means it to sound commanding, leaderly. It comes out as a plea.

One of the boys from Shujin, temporarily shocked from Yusuke’s entrance, rallies and stands up in the booth. The action shakes the table, and the other students jump. “You had better get the hell away from us, man.” He snarls. Akira gets the feeling that it’s not an empty threat.

Yusuke turns to Akira, posture relaxing when his hand touches his arm. “Akira. I -”

“Please.” Akira says.

Yusuke’s expression changes, and under his hand, Akira feels his muscles tense back up. He takes a step back, and turns to look at the students in the booth. “My apologies. We’ll be taking our leave.” His voice is low and freezing cold, and Akira recognizes it as the voice he’s heard in Mementos, in palaces, in the museum most of all, when his blade is drawn and his head is held high. There is nothing in it that resembles fear.

They turn around, Akira throwing a few thousand yen on the table as they head towards the exit. Yusuke is walking, but walking slowly, and Akira can’t help but pull on his arm, still locked in his grip, trying to urge him forward faster. He realizes he’s panicking, and he’s embarrassed by it. But it can’t happen, not here, not now, not with Yusuke. All he knows, all he can think about, is that they have to get away.

They walk a few blocks away from the diner before stopping. Even though they weren’t running, Yusuke having kept up his stately walk, Akira finds himself panting. He leans against a brick wall, sinking down a few inches as he tries to catch his breath.

“Are you okay?”

He looks up and sees Yusuke, looking down with concern. His voice remains slightly cold.

Akira shakes his head, standing up a little straighter and closing his eyes. “Why did you do that?”

“I – they were insulting you. Insulting both of us. I could not simply stand by while…”

He trails off, and Akira opens his eyes. The last of the tension has left Yusuke’s form, and he wraps his arms around his torso, eyes darting to the ground. Looking closely, Akira can see that he’s shaking.

“I can handle it.” Akira says. “Promise. I’m used to it, I can deal with it. Just please, don’t – don’t do that again.”

“I couldn’t stand to hear you treated that way.” Yusuke says quietly. “It was – I don’t want to let that happen. I don’t want people to walk over us ever again.”

Akira sighs and gets up off the wall. He approaches Yusuke and he looks up, and Akira throws his arms around him. Yusuke starts, but relaxes into the hug immediately after, and Akira reaches up a hand, touches his shoulder, breathes in his hair.

“Go home, Yusuke.” He says, his voice muffled in their embrace. “We can talk about it later, I can try to explain. But now, go home.”

Yusuke retracts himself and Akira follows suit. His eyes are wet, and his glasses are smudged, and he feels like he’s about to explode.

“Be safe.” Yusuke says. “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Yusuke nods. Then, looking like he’d rather do anything but, he disappears down a tunnel to the subway.

Akira stands there alone for several seconds. Gradually, the people surrounding him avert their eyes and return to their business, movement buffeting the Shibuya street.

He lets out a long breath and starts walking himself. It’s not the direction of home, or the subway. But it’s better than standing still.

He doesn’t know how long he walks before he realizes he’s being followed. He doesn’t bother to turn around – he knows what he’ll see. They were well away from the center of Shibuya by the time he noticed the sound, the city streets now branching into alleys and walls. At once, a wave of calm washes over him, taking with it the last of the fear, anger, and worry boiling in his stomach. It’s an absurd reaction to the knowledge that he’s in danger. But he knows danger. And it feels so much better to know what he’s up against.

Finally and unsurprisingly, the movement of the figures behind him drives Akira into an alley corner, and he turns. Sure enough, the five Shujin students are there, the boys leading the pack while the two girls cling to each other behind.

Akira puts his hands in his pockets and stretches his neck back and forth. “You realize how corny this is, right?” He asks.

“Shut the hell up.” Growls the boy on the left. Akira recognizes him as the one who had stood in the restaurant, the evident leader of this charge. Probably this was his idea. “We’re not scared of you.”

“Evidently not.” Akira shrugs. “Guess I need to work on cutting a more imposing figure.”

He lunges his body forward, moving one hand out of his pocket. It’s a movement of no more than a few inches, but the boys step back, and the girls whimper. When he realizes what just happened, the boy on the left shouts, pushing himself back towards Akira. He grabs a fistful of his shirt and holds his face a few inches from the other boy’s. “That was stupid, nutjob.” He yells, his breath fogging Akira’s glasses and leaving flecks of spit on his cheeks.

Unable to stop himself, Akira smiles. “Probably.”

The blow comes from his right, a bright stinging sensation that spreads rapidly across his forehead, nose, and cheekbone. He stays standing, but the world goes black as his eyes shut tight and he staggers backwards, released from the other boy’s grip. He covers his right eye with a hand and opens his left. In the seconds it takes him to recover enough to take stock of his surroundings, the other two boys have stepped forward, flanking the first one on either side. He’s surrounded. He braces himself for the next impact and focuses on not moving, resisting the adrenaline pumping through his system, telling him to fight or flight but if he lets it win, he won’t start running. He wants to leap on all three of them, he wants to kick and claw and show them how much better he is at this than they were betting on. He wants to, but he can’t afford to.

And then there’s a black blur, coming out of nowhere and landing on the face of the boy who landed a punch. The student screams and the other two boys step back. It’s scratching and biting and leaping between his shoulders, and in his addled state, it takes a second for Akira to realize it’s Morgana. As soon as he does, he bolts, his hand still clutched over his eye as he runs out to the alley entryway. He turns for long enough to see Morgana disengage and disappear up the wall and into a hole, and then he keeps running, back the way he came as quick as he can move and into the subway.

He scans his pass and boards the first train he sees without checking where it’s going. It isn’t rush hour, so there’s room enough for him to sit, holding his head in his hands with his elbows balanced on his knee while he waits for his heart to slow down. The right side of his face is still throbbing, and he can’t open his eye. He removes his right hand from his eye and squints. There’s blood, not much of it and it’s starting to dry, but it’s not a good sign. He’s conscious of strangers watching him, a mother with her child strapped to her chest who moves to the other end of the train car when he sits down. He shouldn’t care, and he does anyway.

When the pain has dulled to a point where he can think again, he exits the rail car and follows signs back to Yongen-Jaya, walking to Takemi’s clinic as quickly as he can.

The sign on the door says closed, but he knocks anyway. After about 20 seconds, the door opens, her face peeking out through a crack.

“Sorry sir, but we’re cl-”

She stops mid-sentence when she sees him, her expression turning suddenly dark. She steps back inside and he hears a latch undo itself, then opens the door and motions him inside and into the exam room.

She remains silent as he lays on the table and she cleans his wound, careful fingers pressing against his face with just enough pressure to sting. She runs a few tests, makes him answer questions and shines a light in his eyes. She applies a bandage to his cut, then rolls her chair to the other side of the room, assembling pill bottles and other items into a white paper bag. She talks as she works, her back turned to him.

“It looks worse than it is. You have a black eye, and a laceration near your eyebrow. The cartilage in your nose was broken, but the bones aren’t fractured. I don’t think you have a concussion, but text me if you feel dizzy or develop a headache. It should be a relatively easy recovery. Ice it for an hour tonight, then alternate ice and heat for the next few days while it starts to fade. Replace the bandage on your eyebrow tomorrow, I’m sending you home with a new one and some generic pain medication. Take it as needed, one or two an hour. If anything changes, if you have any concerns at all, come back immediately. Understood?”

Akira sits up from the table, feeling carefully around where she’s placed the bandage with one hand. “How much do I owe you?”

She turns in her chair, legs splayed with arms together and head tilted to the side. “I’ll add it to your tab. Go home and get some rest. Now.”

He hesitates, then stands, hands in his pockets. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” She says. It occurs to him that he’s never seen her look this angry before, but he’s too tired to ask why.

Only five minutes later, he finally gets back home. There’s a couple customers in Leblanc, and they look up when he enters, but immediately look back down. Sojiro sees him, and his eyebrows go up as he looks over Akira’s face, but he doesn’t say anything, just keeps drying glasses. Akira hurries up to his room and barely manages to change into his pajamas before falling into bed, and Sojiro doesn’t call him down to help with dishes.


	3. Chapter 3

When he wakes up, he opens both his eyes. It’s not a bad start.

When he gets to the bathroom downstairs – to the mirror, more specifically, it gets worse. With both eyes open, he can see the damage clearly. The purples and reds have only deepened, blooming across his skin in waves and dots, like wretched hydrangeas, and his nose isn’t crooked, but it’s not in the same place as before. He takes the bandage off his forehead to find the cut is clean, thanks to Takemi. He washes his face and then fishes around in the bag she gave him for a bandage to reapply. On second thought, he takes two of the pain pills too and swallows them.

He looks back in the mirror. He looks like a fucking wreck.

It’s funny – in the navigator, in the Palaces, they get hurt. He knows it’s true, he feels it, but it’s not quite physical. There’s something abstract about the whole experience of those places, like the damage isn’t really skin deep. It’s a pain that goes beyond snapped bones and ruptured vessels, it just is, and all it takes is a word from Morgana or Ann or Makoto before it isn’t. This is different, the way it lives in his blood and pools in his skin. The way it doesn’t go away, the way it stings under pressure, when the edge of his glasses bumps up against his cheek.

By the time he exits the bathroom, still in his pajamas, Sojiro is there, pouring coffee. He looks him over and nods him towards a spot on the counter where a plate of curry is already steaming. Akira sits down and Sojiro puts the coffee down next to him.

“So what happened?”

They’re alone now, and there’s a subtle edge to Sojiro’s tone that Akira’s grown to recognize. He’d expected something like this, anyway.

When he doesn’t reply, Sojiro sighs, a long-suffering sound that Akira still can’t parse. “I thought I told you not to get into any trouble.”

“Am I?” Akira asks.

“Are you what?”

“In trouble.” He says it with a smirk on his face that he can’t suppress, but feels guilty for nonetheless.

“Maybe.” Sojiro says. He takes a cigarette out of his apron pocket and lights it.

Akira waits longer than necessary to respond. “I didn’t start it, if that’s what you’re thinking. I didn’t finish it either. I didn’t hit them at all. And I don’t think they’re gonna call the cops.”

Sojiro blows out a puff of smoke, putting the hand that isn’t holding the cigarette up to his temple, and Akira recognizes the way he angles his hand not to smudge his glasses, because he does the same thing. “I don’t wanna have to worry about you, kid.”

Akira shrugs. “I don’t think that’s my decision.”

Sojiro laughs bleakly and scowls, taking a second, slower look at Akira’s face. “You see a doctor?”

Akira nods, and Sojiro nods back. “Good. Then I’m not gonna worry about you. Just don’t get into any more trouble, understood?”

Akira nods again, and Sojiro blows out another puff of smoke. “I’m gonna open up the shop in a few minutes. You’re off school today, right?”

Akira nods, and Sojiro nods back.

“It would be great if you could take that mug upstairs, instead of scaring all my customers off with it.”

As soon as Akira finishes off his food, he complies, retreating to his bedroom without another word. He is relieved to see Morgana sleeping soundly on the chair, having evidently gotten in through the window. He doesn’t want to wake them, so he sets his phone to silent before he checks it. The first thing he sees is a text from Yusuke, sent only a few minutes before.

_Did you get home ok last night?_

He doesn’t know how to feel about Yusuke guessing that something might be wrong. He doesn’t know how to feel about Yusuke at all, right now, so he ignores the text and sends one to Ann instead.

_Are you busy?_

_No. What’s up?_

_Can you come over?_

_Sure. Is everything okay?_

_Yeah. Bring makeup._

She fusses over him more than he wants when she gets there, and it wakes Morgana up, and they both take several minutes getting the full story out of him, minus a few details that he doesn’t think are any of their business. Once things have died down, Ann, her voice still shaking, shows him how to apply foundation to his bruised skin. Her touch on his face, when it’s needed, is so light and gentle he can barely tell her hand is there. It calms him down, and when Ann holds up a mirror while they’re wrapping up, he feels close to normal again.

He realizes his phone is still silenced, so he checks it and switches on the volume. Yusuke’s text has been joined by two more, sent about 30 minutes apart.

_I’m sorry for being so reckless yesterday. I know it made you uncomfortable._

_Please respond, Akira._

He flinches. Ann sees.

“It’s Yusuke.” He says. “He wants to know if I’m okay.”

“So tell him.” She responds matter-of-factly.

Akira looks down, avoiding her gaze.

Ann frowns and sets the makeup puff she was holding down on the coffee table with the rest of her makeup. “Akira… he was with you. He could be in trouble too. He needs to know.”

“I know.” His eyes break away from hers, gaze wandering to the floor. “I know. I’ll talk to him, okay?”

Ann hesitates, then nods.

Her phone goes off and she picks it up, eyes darting to the screen and then back up. “I have a shoot in half an hour.” She explains, sliding her phone back into her jeans pocket. “Are you going to be okay? I can cancel, it’s not a big deal.”

“I’m fine. Thanks for the offer.”

She stands. “Keep the makeup, I have more at home. You can give it back when you don’t need it any more.”

“Thanks.”

She’s halfway to the doorway when she turns around. “Call me if you need me, okay? And promise me you’ll take care of yourself. And that you’ll talk to him.”

“I promise. All of it.”

She bites her lip, then nods. “Keep an eye on him, Morgana.” She doesn’t say it as a question.

“Of course, Lady Ann.”

Ann smiles halfheartedly and turns around again. Akira waits until the sound of her footfalls has faded to pick himself up from the couch just long enough to walk to his bed and crash there, staring at the ceiling.

Morgana sidles over to the bed and curls up beside him.

Akira sighs. He reaches out a hand idly to pet them, and for once, Morgana doesn’t recoil. “Thanks.” He says. “You saved me back there.”

“Any time, Joker.”

He pauses. “I don’t – you were okay, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Good. Morgana, if that happens again – if you find me like that – please be careful, okay? I don’t – I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me.”

Akira sits up as he feels a weight on his ribs, pressure coming from tiny, delicate points of contact. Morgana’s paws make their way up to his chest and then their whole weight descends on his chest, comfortable and warm and nestled next to his stomach.

“It’s not just for you. I’d do it for any of you. You’re my team. You’d do it for me, right?”

“Of course.”

“So it’s no big deal. Just try to be safer next time. I can’t be there every time, y’know?”

“I know. Thank you. Again.”

“Don’t mention it. Really.”

They sit in silence for a long moment before Akira’s ready to speak again.

“Can you – can you give me a minute alone? I need to talk to Yusuke.”

There’s a shifting of the pressure on his chest, and then a release as Morgana jumps off and into the window. “I’ll be around.”

Akira nods and smiles. “I know.”

Morgana skitters down the pipes to the ground floor. Akira takes a deep breath, sits up, and opens his phone.

_I’m home._

Less than a minute passes before he receives a reply.

_Are you safe?_

He thinks for a while on that before he replies.

_I am now._

His phone starts ringing almost instantly. Tentatively, terrified, he picks up.

“Akira?”

“Hi.”

There is a long exhale of breath on the other end of the line, and his heart skips a beat at the same time as it drops into his stomach.

“Thank goodness. I was so worried, I – I’m so sorry, truly, about what happened last night. It was foolish. It wasn’t fair of me to intrude on your struggles without your permission, I recognize that now.”

“It’s fine. Thank you for the apology.”

“You _are_ all right, yes?”

He hesitates for a second too long, long enough for Yusuke to interrupt in a small, frightened voice that he can barely stand to hear. “Please say something.”

“I got in a fight.”

“What?”

“I’m fine. They followed me and cornered me in an alley. No one saw, I’m not in trouble. Morgana saved me.”

“It was those students, wasn’t it?” He sounds near paralyzed with fear, it’s the same tone of voice he heard him use around Madarame, and knowing he’s the cause is enough to break Akira’s heart into pieces.

“Yes.”

There is a long silence then, so long that Akira can barely breathe by the end. “I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”

He should tell him. He can’t tell him. He couldn’t stand to hear the break in Yusuke’s voice that it would cause, the trembling anger. He couldn’t stand the worry that would come after over how he was going to vent it. The way he acted last night wasn’t like him, acting without a plan, but he’s seen Yusuke angry, he knows what that looks like, and he doesn’t know how far it might go if he knew the truth.

“I’m sorry I took so long to answer you.” He says instead. “It was a long night. I slept in for… a while.”

“Understandable.”

“Be careful, okay?” Akira asks, slightly hesitant. “I don’t know if they’re done with us. I think they only care about me, anyway, but – if they go after you, don’t mess with them. They’re assholes, but they’re not worth it. We can take care of them, if it comes to that, but we should do it together. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“I will take care if you promise to do the same. Your position is more precarious than mine. I would hate to see it jeopardized by those fools.”

“I would too.”

Yusuke laughs, but it’s cut short, like the joke’s not really funny. “I mean it, Akira. Promise.”

“I promise. I’ll be safe.”

“Thank you.” He says, and Akira’s world comes back together just slightly, enough for him to smile. “As for me, I will endeavor to follow your lead as always. I need – I have work to do, but if you need me, don’t hesitate to call.”

“It’s fine. I’ll see you soon, Yusuke.”

The phone call ends with an abrupt beep, and Akira relaxes into his bed with a long sigh. He lies on his side and cradles the phone between both hands, staring blankly at Yusuke’s photo on the caller ID. He only woke up a couple hours ago, and he’s already exhausted. He thinks about going down to get coffee, but he doesn’t want to hang out around the customers. He’d gotten used to being stared at since he got to Tokyo, and since the Phantom Thieves started he didn’t care. He had bigger things to worry about. But the last several hours have left him feeling small, and he thinks the glare of others’ eyes on him would make him disappear.

The next few hours pass in a haze of video games and DVDs, and he doesn’t let his mind stop to focus on anything. Morgana comes back inside at some point, but they don’t talk. He takes a couple painkillers and a nap, and when the sun sets, he goes downstairs and outside to buy a mirror at the second-hand store that he hangs in his room. He takes off his makeup, following Ann’s instructions, and stares back at his reflection a little too long before he tosses the towel aside and crawls into bed.

He wakes early the next morning, and he reaches for his phone. There are no messages yet.

Slightly blearily, he makes his way to the mirror. He looks about the same as he did yesterday, not surprisingly. He peels the bandage off his forehead and checks it: there's no evidence of blood on the gauze, so he figures it's safe not to replace it. The cut doesn't look bad anyway, certainly not next to the black eye and crooked nose.

He gets dressed and makes his way downstairs. Weirdly, Sojiro isn't there yet, so he makes coffee by himself and drinks it in a booth. Sojiro comes in while he's washing the dishes he used, but makes no comment. When he gets back upstairs, he has a text from Ann.

_Did you talk to Yusuke?_

_Yes._

_Good. You any better today?_

Akira scowls, suddenly irritated. He's not sick, he hasn't lost anything other than a fight. They lose fights all the time in the Metaverse. When you meet an opponent stronger than you, and they have no weaknesses you can exploit, and the fight isn't necessary, you run. It's common sense. He doesn't need to be worried about just because he lost a fight.

He knows it's not just about the fight.

He balls his hands into fists, and then relaxes. 

_Much. I’ll see you at school, yeah?_

_You’re coming?_

He groans.

_Yeah._

_Oh. Okay, then yeah!_

It’s not like he could take the day off even if he wanted to.

Using makeup makes him take a little longer than usual to get ready, but he keeps one eye on the time and gets out the door on time for the first train. It’s crowded, no space to sit down, and he keeps his eyes on the ground for the duration of the ride. When the bell chimes for his stop, he takes a deep breath, and heads out the door.

He already sees a couple Shujin students in the station. He walks by them as quickly as he can, hoping to get lost in the crowd, to not be looked at, just for once. It works for a minute or two, but the closer they get to school, the more students appear, the harder it gets to ignore the glances. It’s not out of the ordinary, he has no reason to believe it stems from the bruise. He thinks he did the makeup well enough. It’s probably nothing.

How did he stop noticing it before?

He makes it to his classroom without seeing any of the students from the previous night, and when he walks in the door Ann stands up at her desk with a very fake massive smile. He walks over to their desks and she looks him over.

“You did good.” She remarks. “It’s not totally even, but the glasses help cover it up. Uh, I can go over it for you on break if you want.”

He shakes his head. “I’ve got other plans.”

Her over-enthusiastic smile fades a little. “You sure you’re okay?”

He shrugs. “As much as can be expected. I’m okay enough.”

She bites her lip, then nods. “Yeah.”

Before they can say anything else, Kawakami calls the class to order, and the both of them take their seats. With his classmates immersed in discussion, he’s not distracted by their glares any more, but he still can’t focus very well. He keeps thinking of yesterday, and the day before. The way Yusuke sounded when they left the café, and how he was on the phone. But mostly, the way he was before they left. The way it felt when it was just the two of them there, before the fight. It was calm and confident and warm, and he can’t stop thinking about how to get it back.

When the bell rings for break, he knows where he’s going. He didn’t know any of the students well, they weren’t classmates, but he knows where to find them. He takes a right down the hall and down the stairs, and he exits to the courtyard, and it only takes a few strides to find them, gathered around a vending machine, exchanging cans of soda and laughter.

He doesn’t do anything, just stops and stands there, and looks up at them until they look back. They fall silent. The girls grab hands.

He smiles, and he walks away.

It’s maybe a stupid thing to do. Probably. But for the rest of the day, he forgets to let it bother him when people stare.


	4. Chapter 4

He goes home directly that day, and the next, studying in Leblanc and making infiltration tools and texting his friends. Provoking them is one thing, getting in a second fight is another. He’s still not sure how he wants to handle this, or if he even needs to, but he’d rather be safe than sorry.

The third day, he doesn’t put on makeup in the morning. He’s tired of bothering with it, and he’s gotten back the confidence not to care, and it’s looking a lot better now anyway. He bundles it up in the case that it came in and grabs chocolate as a thank-you for Ann on the train ride in. He gets a couple more looks than usual, but whenever someone looks too close he just smiles, and that tends to solve the problem.

He’s a few feet away from the school entrance when he feels an impact on his back. He turns around to see Ryuji, smiling broadly with his hand pressed between his shoulderblades. “What’s up, man?”

“I –”

Ryuji’s smile is suddenly replaced with a scowl, and he steps in front of Akira, forcing him to stop in his tracks. “What’s up with your eye? Did something happen?”

“I – got in a fight.”

“Shit, man! You okay?”

He shrugs, gestures to his own face. “I mean, more or less. It was a few days ago.”

Ryuji shrugs back. “You get in any trouble?”

Akira shakes his head.

“Alright. Let me know if you need any help, yeah? I’ll back you up next time, no stress. Just hit me up.”

Akira smiles, and he’s pleasantly surprised at how natural it feels. “Uh. Thanks.”

“Any time, bro.” He starts walking again, looking over his shoulder to see if Akira’s following. “You got plans after school today? I was thinkin’ of getting some ramen.”

“Sorry, I’m busy. Maybe tomorrow.”

Ryuji smiles. “Let me know!”

They spend the remainder of the walk to school in companionable silence. Ryuji heads off to his own classroom with a wave, and Akira arrives to class just on time.

He gives Ann her makeup back, along with the truffles, on lunch break, and she informs him that he shouldn’t have in the same moment that she’s stuffing her face with them.

“You look a lot better, actually.” She says, between mouthfuls of chocolate.

“Thanks. I decided it was time. You… you really helped me out, Ann. If there’s anything I can do…”

She shakes her head. “With how much you’ve done for me? I’m lucky if I can just call it even.” She lowers her voice a little bit. “You sure you don’t wanna take care of those guys our way?”

He moves back a little and shakes his head. “I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”

She frowns, but nods. They spend the remainder of lunch chatting about unrelated subjects. Watching her up-close, he realizes that she’s been recovering for the last couple days just as much as he has. He wishes he could make it up to her, that his stress didn’t have to become hers.

The rest of the day passes without event. He doesn’t see the students who assaulted him. He knows he’s not done dealing with them, but he needs time. Frankly, he has bigger fish to fry, and he’s pretty sure he’s scared them off from retaliating against either he or Yusuke again for now.

He gets off at Shibuya to go to work. He’s going to need to pay Takemi back eventually, and it’s too early to go home. He’s making his way through the crowd thoughtlessly when he hears a voice, and he stops dead.

“Akira?”

He knows who it is, he knows his voice, but his stomach still drops when he turns around and sees Yusuke’s face. He’s up against a pillar and he has his phone in his hand like he was looking at it a second ago, but he’s definitely not looking at it any more. Akira’s heart races as he considers his options, whether he’s far enough away that Yusuke can’t see the bruise, whether he can just walk away and pretend he didn’t notice him. But by that time Yusuke is walking towards him and he starts walking towards him in turn and then they’re a few feet from each other and the smile on Yusuke’s face turns into a frown. Akira reaches up to touch his own face at the same time as Yusuke reaches forward to touch it, and when their hands touch, Akira’s cheeks turn red. His heart is beating so fast he can actually feel it in his chest, and he wants to explain, but when he opens his mouth no words come out.

Yusuke speaks first, after a moment of silence that feels like it takes an eternity. “You said you were fine.”

“I am.” Akira replies. He feels stupid saying it. It feels like a lie.

Yusuke takes his hand away from Akira’s face, and as Akira follows suit he has to stop himself from reaching out again.

“I saw a doctor.” He continues. “I really am fine, it’s just a black eye. It’s already better –”

“It was _worse_?” Yusuke interrupts.

“Right after, yes, but I’m fine.” Akira insists. “They only got in one hit, it could have been worse.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He hesitates. “I didn’t want you to worry about me.”

“Then you’ve certainly failed.”

Akira flinches. He looks at the ground. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you trust me?”

Akira looks back up. “What? I – of course.”

“Then why did you lie to me?”

He feels defensive. “I didn’t.”

“A lie of omission is still a lie. I spent most of my life being lied to, Akira, I know what it sounds like.”

“I was worried.” He’s surprised at his own honesty. “I thought – after how you acted in the diner, I didn’t know what to think. If you got hurt –”

“Stop.”

Akira flinches. Yusuke looks like he’s about to cry, but he keeps talking.

“You don’t – I don’t want you to treat me like that. It doesn’t matter why you did it – you’re my friend. You’re my leader. I don’t want you to lie to me, I can’t take it. Not from you.”

“I won’t do it again. I’m sorry.”

For several seconds, they stand there in silence.

“I have to go.” Yusuke says.

He wants to stop him, to say something, to hold him, to make it up to him any way he can. Instead, he nods, and in another moment, Yusuke is gone, lost to the crowd of rush hour subway travelers so quickly that he couldn’t follow even if he wanted to. He doesn’t really know whether he wants to.

He doesn't talk to anybody the next day at school, and nobody talks to him. He doesn't even see Makoto or Ryuji, and Ann - he doesn't know why Ann doesn't talk to him, but he supposes he must be giving off a pretty strong vibe to achieve it. He wishes she would, that he could have someone to talk to about this, but he thinks about trying to explain it to her and he knows he couldn't do it. He's too scared, not of how she would react, but of the act itself. Putting his feelings into words could give them meaning, and he doesn't feel ready to deal with that, not now.

He gets a text in the afternoon during class, and his heart beats faster for a moment. He's not ready to talk to Yusuke again, doesn't know what to say to make things better. But it's from Takemi instead.

_If you're not busy, come by tonight for a follow-up appointment._

The fact that it’s not a request worries him, but she texts again a few minutes later.

_Please._

It’s not like he had anything better to do.

She looks up from her desk behind the glass when he comes in and smiles too brightly when she sees him, which makes him worried again.

She motions him into the back room and he lays down on the table. “So what part of the clinical trial is this?”

She doesn’t smile. “How about is the part of the clinical trial where you lay there quietly and let your doctor do her job, which is take care of you.”

“Just joking.”

“I know.”

He shuts up. She removes his glasses carefully, and it doesn’t hurt but he winces anyway. She notices, and sets them down on a worktable, moving slowly. “Are you going to be okay doing this? We can wait a minute, or I can give you something to help you stay calm.” Her tone is even, clinical but calm.

He shuts his eyes, bites back tears – why does he feel like crying? “I – no, I’m fine. Thank you. But I’ll be fine.”

“I won’t take long. Just try to relax, take deep breaths. Tell me if I push somewhere that hurts.”

“Okay.”

He lies there breathing as she shines lights and places her fingers on his face, and he tells her where pressure hurts and how much. He feels small and vulnerable and helpless, and he has to keep breathing so he doesn’t start crying. He doesn’t like the feeling of her hands so close, he doesn’t like having someone else in his space. He’s done this before, she’s been close like this before the fight, and it was like nothing. It’s not nothing today. God, he thought he’d been doing better. He had his confidence back yesterday. Why did this keep happening?

As promised, she only takes a couple minutes before moving back, spinning her chair around to pick up a clipboard and pen. “You’ve been able to see okay?”

“Yeah.”

“No dizzy spells?”

“No.”

“How about headaches?”

“Not really.”

“What does ‘not really’ mean?”

“Nothing unusual, I guess.”

“So you usually have headaches?”

“Sometimes. Not always.”

She looks pensive for a second and writes something down, continuing to talk as she does. “Is the pain okay?”

“It’s fine. It’s been getting better.”

“Have you noticed any bleeding or other fluids from your nose or eye?”

“No.”

She writes for another few seconds, then puts down the pen and clipboard on the table opposite him. “You can sit up and put your glasses back on.”

He does, and she turns her chair to face him.

“You seem to be healing normally. I know the appearance was a bit severe, but it’s not actually bleeding any more. It should fade completely in the next week or so. If you’re concerned, or if complications develop, I’ll refer you to a hospital so you can get checked out in an MRI. Is that okay?”

“I like seeing you.”

“That’s very kind. I don’t have the kind of equipment here that I’d need to check you for a more severe head injury, so let’s both just hope you don’t have one.”

“Okay.”

“He hit you pretty hard, huh?”

Her remark takes him back. He’s careful with his response. “How’d you know it was a ‘he’?”

“You have a small cut and signs of blunt force trauma. You got punched. Tokyo girls might punch, but they’re just as likely to scratch, instead.”

He smiles. “Yeah, he hit me pretty hard.”

“Did you start it?”

“No.”

“Did you win, then?”

That makes him pause.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Makes sense. Hard to win a fight if you don’t throw a punch.”

Now he’s really taken aback.

“How’d you know?”

She shrugs. “Well, your hands are fine. That was one of the first things I checked when you came in before. Usually people who get in fights for the first time don’t know how to hit without hurting their hands.”

“How do you know it was my first time fighting, then?”

“I don’t think it was. But I know your reputation better than you might think. I don’t know what you’re doing, but I know you’re not getting in street fights. You’re too smart to screw up your own life like that. Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not wrong.”

“Are you going to do it again?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, as your doctor, my advice would be don’t. You got off pretty easy this time, and I don’t want you to have to refer you to a hospital any more than you want to go to one. Understood?”

“How much do I owe you?”

Takemi looks frustrated. “How about 5,000 yen and I don’t see you outside of normal business hours for the next couple months?”

He takes out 5,000 yen and gives it to her. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

On his walk home, he gets another text and checks it.

_If it does happen again, text me first. I can keep the place open for you for a couple extra hours, at least._

He smiles.

_I’ll see what I can do._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of update for a few weeks guys! New quarter of grad school started at the same time as my wife and I adopted a puppy and I haven't had a lot of energy left for writing fanfic. Thanks for reading and for your patience while I build the buffer back up!


	5. Chapter 5

He gets back to Leblanc a little before closing and stops dead when he walks through the door. Sitting in the booth nearest him, staring across the way towards the bar, is Yusuke.

He startles when he sees Akira enter, knocking a pencil off the table. “I – sorry, I’m not trying to intrude, I should have told you I was coming. I wanted – to come look at it for a while.”

Akira glances over in the direction of Yusuke’s gaze at the Sayuri, then back at Yusuke. His face is slightly pink as he talks. “It’s been a rough couple days. I thought it might help.”

“Don’t apologize.” He replies a little too quickly for it to be casual. “It’s yours. You can see it whenever you want, you don’t have to tell me. I’ll just go upstairs, don’t worry about it.”

He makes it a few steps in, passing by a booth with another couple guests, before Yusuke’s voice stops him. “Please. Wait.”

He stops, and he turns around. Yusuke’s slid to the edge of his seat and is half-standing, looking toward him.

Slowly, he walks back over to the booth, and Yusuke relaxes back into his seat, his hand idly reaching for the cup of coffee on the table. Akira remains standing, positioned awkwardly at the edge of the table with his hands in his pockets.

“I just – I wanted to say I’m sorry as well. For the other day.”

Akira looks at Yusuke, then looks at the other guests in Leblanc, who are casting furtive glances over. Sojiro is just standing there smoking and watching the TV, but when Akira looks at him, he makes eye contact for a second and raises his eyebrows.

Without really thinking about it, Akira grabs Yusuke’s backpack and shoulders it. “Let’s go upstairs. You can bring your coffee.”

He hears Yusuke behind him on the staircase, but when he turns around a few moments later and sees him standing there in his bedroom, it still feels like a surprise. Akira is immediately, uncomfortably aware of the fact that it's just the two of them up here, a discomfort that is only increased by their mutual silence in the seconds following their entry into the attic.

He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lie to you, and I didn't even think... I didn't think enough about what that would mean to you." He pauses for a second. "I hate the thought that you think I don't trust you. I know why you'd think it, but it isn't true. I trust you with my life."

"I know that." Yusuke replies, but his voice is quiet, and he won't meet his eyes. "And I'm... grateful. But I want you to trust me with more than that."

Akira flinches, but he's pretty sure Yusuke doesn't see. "I know. I'm sorry, it was wrong, I just... I was scared."

"Why?"

"Because I thought you'd try to fight them. If you knew they'd hurt me."

"I'm not a fool."

His temper flares, and he looks up. "No you aren't, but you were acting foolish. Those people are my problem, and I'm dealing with it. I didn’t need you to jump in and uphold my honor without even asking."

“I wasn’t trying - we’re better than that. All those things they said about you, you shouldn’t take it lying down. You taught me that.”

“I’m not taking it lying down, I’m just…” He trails off, trying to find words to justify himself to the both of them. “I’m picking my battles. I don’t like getting in fights I can’t win, and I lost this one before I got off the bus to Tokyo. I have to be careful, I don’t have a choice. You know my situation, you know what it would look like if I fought back.”

“Who cares what it would look like?”

“I do! My parole officer does! I have to care, don’t you get that? Is it somehow not clear - is it not completely obvious that I would fight if I could? I would fight everyone if I could. I would fight every single person who ever hurt me, who ever hurt us. But I can’t. I have to pick my battles, and I’m picking the important ones. A bunch of kids spreading rumors and flirting with girls, that’s not an important problem.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Why?!”

“Because they hurt you.”

Akira stops. Yusuke is looking at the ground, and his tone has shifted from anger to hurt. “And it was my fault. And for that, Joker, I don’t know if I can ever apologize enough.”

Akira crosses the room to where Yusuke is standing in two strides. Not thinking, he grabs Yusuke’s hand in one of his and takes off his glasses with the other, bringing his hand to his face and pressing his fingers against his cheek, against the hard bone next to his eye.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. See? It was just a scratch, it’s already better, I’m fine. I saw a doctor and she told me so. It wasn’t your fault, Yusuke. You didn’t hit me.”

They stare at each other. Two days ago, they stood just like this, and he was scared. Today, he doesn’t feel scared. His heart is pounding just as bad, but he’s not scared. He’s electric.

After a few seconds, Yusuke moves to drops his hand down, and Akira lets him, removing his own and replacing his glasses before sheepishly inserting both hands into his pockets. “Which is to say… apology accepted.” He mumbles.

Yusuke smiles, almost shyly. “The same to you. I was angry - I suppose I still am. But I was too hard on you. I’m sorry for that, too.”

“I know.” He takes a step back and turns to look out the window. “Would you stay with me? If I did fight.”

“You mean those students?”

“I mean everyone.”

He looks back at Yusuke, and Yusuke smiles at him.

“I would stay with you through anything. Don’t you know that?”

Akira smiles back. “Thanks for saying it, anyway.”

An alarm goes off on Yusuke’s phone. He frowns, picking it up and glancing at the screen. “The last train is in a few minutes. I should go.”

Akira’s brain is screaming at him to ask him to stay over for the night. He has before, Sojiro didn’t mind. In that moment, the thought of letting him out of his sight is like a knife in his heart.

He doesn’t say it.

Instead he nods, smiles coyly and ducks his head. “Go, get some rest. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“I certainly hope so.”

He walks him to the front door of Leblanc, ignoring glances from customers on their way. Yusuke pauses in the entryway to take a last look at Sayuri, and Akira feels himself go pink.

Yusuke turns back to him. “Good night, my friend. Thank you for everything.”

Akira smiles. “Back at you. Get home safe, okay?”

Yusuke nods, and just like that, he’s out the door.

Akira crawls into bed early, and spends the next hour unable to fall asleep as he thinks back over every detail of Yusuke’s hand on his face.


	6. Chapter 6

A few days later, his scars have healed completely. His face still looks different in the mirror, just a little - Takemi had warned him the broken nose might do that - but he knows he’ll get used to it. He’s gotten used to a lot of things. And the best part is, it’s not just his face that’s better.

Since he talked to Yusuke, he can breathe again. It doesn’t always feel like he’s being stared at, and when he really is being stared at, he responds with a smile. His confidence is back, and it feels even better than the first time. Even school is fine - it’s been more than a week, and he hasn’t even seen the boys that tried to fight him. He’s still cautious, but he suspects he’s right in thinking that one fight was all they had in them. 

He sees Yusuke almost every day now, too, and every time they’re together, he feels warm and light and happy. Every time they part, he feels lost. Sometimes for hours. He thinks about him during class, and thinking about him keeps him up at night. He thinks about him when he’s hanging out with Makoto or Ann or Ryuji, and they look at him oddly because they can tell his attention is drifting. He’s beginning to suspect there’s a reason for this, and he’s got a suspicion of what it is. But he puts it out of mind when he can. If he didn’t, he’d never get to sleep.

He’s fine: he’s as relaxed as he ever is. So as usual, he’s not prepared when the other shoe drops.

He gets a text during class from Makoto, which is how he knows it’s serious, because Makoto never texts during class - and she only sends it to him.

_Come to the student council office after school. I need to talk to you._

She’s waiting by the door when he gets there, and she half-pulls him in, anxious hands on his elbow. She sits down across from him with her arms folded when they get inside, and she looks like she did when they didn’t know each other, and his heart drops into his stomach.

“We got a complaint.”

He raises his eyebrows, trying to look cool through the panic. “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific.”

“The student council got a complaint. About you.” She hesitates. “About you fighting.”

He doesn’t say anything; she keeps talking. “I noticed your black eye. Sorry. I know you didn’t want me to, so I didn’t say anything. You and Ann did a really good job on the makeup, but -”

“She told you?”

She bites her lip. “Look, she didn’t tell me until I pleaded with her. Don’t be angry, please.”

“I’m not… angry with you. Or her.”

“I’m glad.”

He chooses his words carefully. “What happens next?”

Makoto hesitates. “Well, to tell you the truth, we don’t have much power. It might be different if they talked to the principal, but all we can do is - make a recommendation.”

“About whether to expel me?”

“About whether to _discipline_ you. Please take this seriously -”

“I am taking this seriously.”

“Then shut up and listen to me.”

He does, but she hesitates again.

“The rest of the student council doesn’t like you much. And I… hate to say it, but I’m not sure they like me any more either.”

His brow wrinkles, and his heart hurts. “Because you’re friends with me.”

“Maybe. Probably.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m still in charge - they don’t need to like me. But if the rest of them rally against you - if they believe the story, I don’t know how much I can do.”

“Enough.”

“What?”

“Enough.” He repeats. “You’re doing enough. Thank you for the warning, but - I’ll handle it.”

“We’ll take your side of the story too.”

“Will that matter?”

“I don’t know that either. I don’t know - I don’t know if I am doing enough.”

She’s looking down at the table, and he reaches out a hand to hold hers - she squeezes it, tight. Her voice is on the edge of fury.

“I should be able to protect you. I don’t - what else is this stupid position for?”

“We can’t punch through all our problems.”

“I can punch really hard.”

“I should have you with me next time, then.”

“Don’t joke about that. I swear, if I’d had the chance to fight back for you -”

“You do. And you’re taking it, and I’m grateful. I’ll handle it with style and grace, Makoto, as long as you have my back.”

She lets go of his hand, and looks up at him across the desk. “Ann told me about Yusuke, too. She said you talked to him?”

He turns slightly pink. “I did, yeah. I - kinda messed up, with him. But we talked, and - it’s fine now.”

“You told him how you feel, then?”

His heart rate suddenly ticks up. “What do you mean?”

She notices, and backpedals. “Sorry - we don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.”

“About what? Yusuke’s my friend, our friend, I don’t feel - we’re fine.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, then. If you’re fine.”

“We are.”

“I have work to do.” She says, and even though she’s one of the busiest people he knows, he gets the sense she’s lying. “Text me if you have any other questions - I’ll keep you in the loop as best as I can. See you later?”

He takes too long to respond, and when he does, he just says “Yeah.”

He texts Ryuji and asks if he wants to train, and they run together in the summer heat until he’s too exhausted to text Makoto and ask what she really meant.


	7. Chapter 7

He tells Ryuji while they’re running, texts Ann while he’s changing to discover that she already knows. It boggles his mind how quickly rumors spread at a school with a thousand other students, but whatever. He’s got bigger fish to fry.

He’s about to send the same text to Yusuke, and then he stops and re-words it. He reads it over and re-words it again. He reads it over, deletes the whole thing, and writes something else instead.

_Wanna come to Leblanc for dinner?_

He sends it, and by the time Yusuke gets there, he’s already sitting in a booth with two plates of curry and an open seat on the other side. He’s out of breath coming through the door, and he smiles when he sees him and Akira feels just as breathless.

He makes small talk for a few minutes before relating what Makoto told him. Yusuke doesn’t interrupt, but he can see his fist clench tighter around his spoon.

He mimics the gesture, but he’s not feeling angry, just sad. “I’ll be fine, Yusuke - I mean, I’m not happy about it, but I’ll be fine.”

Yusuke shakes his head. “You’ve fought bolder foes, and Makoto is on your side. I need no assurances that you’ll be fine. It’s them that I’m concerned about. This backhanded behavior is simply appalling. The notion that they’ll face no consequences for hurting you, not to mention their gross cowardliness, is… difficult to come to terms with.”

“We could go to Mementos.” Morgana suggests, peeking their head out of his bag.

Yusuke shakes his head again. “I don’t know that I care if they’re sorry. I care that they’re punished.”

It’s a chilling statement, delivered in his low and lovely tenor. The leaderly thing would be to reprimand him.

“Me too.” He says instead. “I have thought about Mementos, believe me - I mean, if this goes south, I won’t hesitate. But it’s not that easy - if they withdraw their story all of a sudden like that, I’ll just look more suspicious than I already do. And believe me, I already look pretty suspicious to them.”

“You saw your doctor, right? Perhaps she could testify on your behalf.”

“I’m sure she would. I’m not sure it would be enough. You haven’t met her, but… Takemi-san’s not exactly going to improve my image with my classmates.”

Yusuke brightens. “What about me, then?”

“What?”

“I may not have seen the fight, but I was there with you at the diner. If they get to tell their side of the story with witnesses, you ought to have the same privilege.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Morgana says.

Akira frowns a little. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you come to my school. Besides, they might be there. It could be trouble.”

Yusuke raises his eyebrows. “I’m well accustomed to trouble, I think you’ll find.”

Akira laughs, but he’s still nervous. “I’ll ask Makoto if she thinks it’s a good idea.”

“A sound plan. I’m sure our queen knows what she’s doing better than I do. I only hope I can be of some assistance to you, Akira. Truly, being able to help you in any way… there is little else that could bring me such joy.”

His voice is soft around the edges. Inexplicably, Akira blushes. “I… thank you, Yusuke.”

Yusuke smiles, and his heart flip flops. “I should be going. You’ll text me after you speak with Makoto?”

“Yeah. See you.”

He texts Makoto once he gets upstairs, phone in hand as he’s getting ready for bed.

_Yusuke wants to know if he can come and talk to the student council_

_You mean about the fight?_

_Yeah_

_He didn’t see the fight, correct?_

_No, he was just at the diner with me. Only people at fight were them, me & Morgana._  
_I could ask Mona to vouch for me._

_Remember when we talked about being serious?_

_:(_

_Asking Yusuke to help isn’t a bad idea. He’d certainly make an impression._

_An impression is the opposite of what I want to make_

_I just mean he looks… respectable._

_What if they know him from the news?_

_Even if they do remember him, the worst that can happen is they pity him._  
_I think they’ll believe him. Will you be okay with it?_

He scowls at the phone.

_Yes_

_Do you want to talk about it?_

He types out there’s nothing to talk about and deletes it.

_No_

_Ok. I’ll contact both of you when there's more to say._  
_Good night, Joker._

_Good night_

As he settles into bed, he takes comfort in the fact that by now, he’s used to losing sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters this time. These were both too short for me to feel good about posting solo, but didn't seem to fit in a single chapter together either.
> 
> Fair warning, if it's not obvious: I am 100% winging it with the Shujin academy student council hearing... stuff. It was challenging to research, in addition to which I kind of decided to just write what worked for the plot. If you know more about this than me and this portrayal is horribly inaccurate, I am sorry. I usually work much harder on research, but I don't have all that much time for fic research now that I'm back in school doing actual academic research.


	8. Chapter 8

Makoto Niijima is starting to worry.

Which is unusual, for her. For most of her life, she’s been pretty sure that she had a handle on things. She did what people told her, and knew that was for the best. Until she started being less sure about that second part for a few months, and then a few weeks ago, gave up on the first part too. And when she did, she was sure she was right. Sure that right, with a little push and shove, would win. So there was no cause to be worried.

She’s still sure. She knows she’s right and she knows they’re going to win like she knows how to write her own name, without even having to think about it. But there are other things to worry about.

Akira Kusuru, for example. Honestly, Akira might be close to the world record for worrying people. A lot of it is for the wrong reasons. A lot of it isn’t.

She’s been stalling her way through student council meetings for two days now. Manufacturing other topics of conversation. The literature club needs help with a fundraiser, the swim team needs help with their paperwork. They have to hammer out details about the class trip. She needs a day off for a college visit. Anything she can seize on to prolong the discussion and the decision that comes with it. The rest of the members have noticed, or she thinks they have. It’s getting harder to tell whether she’s being smart or paranoid.

Regardless, all she’s doing is buying time.

The final straw comes quietly, a buzzing sound under her desk. She’s started checking her phone in class, since she and Akira have been anxiously texting nonstop. It isn’t from Akira, though - it’s from the student council vice president.

_President,_

_FYI: Ito approached me in the office before school this morning w a friend. He was agitated abt status of his complaint abt Kusuru. Referred him to principal if he wants 2 take further action & took a testimony from his friend. You can check the record on the desktop._

She stands up from her desk. The teacher is halfway through her sentence; suddenly, all eyes are on her.

“Niijima-san?” Her teacher cocks her head, looking genuinely concerned. “Is there a problem?”

She thinks fast. “Sorry, my sister - sensei, it sounds like an emergency. I have to go.”

The whole room feels frozen for a second. Then her teacher nods.

“Understood. I’ll be sure to email you your assignments.”

She doesn’t have time to be relieved. She shoves her notebook into her school bag, picks it up, and walks through the door as fast as she can.

The halls are empty in the middle of class, and it takes almost no time at all to get to the student council office. She slides into the chair and double-clicks the file saved to the desktop labeled “Noriko Imai” that she doesn’t recognize.

Inside is an unrecognizable story, about Akira and Yusuke harassing a group of girls in a diner and Koichiro Ito bravely defending their honor and chasing her friends out. It ends in Akira and Yusuke following Ito and his friends through Shibuya until they corner them in an alleyway and attack. Ito fights back in self-defense after about a paragraph of overdramatic thrashing and Akira and Yusuke flee.

She closes the document and leaves the room, exiting Shujin before class can get out so she doesn’t get caught in her lie. Once she’s clear of the campus she makes her way to a subway platform and rides the train till she’s too far away for anyone to recognize her, and then ducks into a coffee shop and orders the most caffeinated thing she sees on the menu.

Her phone buzzes again as she sits down with her drink. This time, it is from Akira.

_Are you okay???_  
_Your classmates said there was an emergency. Text me when you can, okay?_  
_I’m here if you need me._

He’s worried about her. She wants to throw her coffee through the window.

She doesn’t. She texts Ann.

_Meet me @ hideout after school. Bring Ryuji._

She starts to calm down as she’s sipping her coffee, at least enough to cover her tracks, to craft an excuse for the school and for Akira about Sae texting her that she was at the hospital when it turned out that she was visiting a plaintiff there. It’s a little irritating how easily they all believe her. She’s a good girl in the end, after all.

She gets on the subway after she finishes her drink - Ann and Ryuji should be getting out of school soon, and she doesn’t want any other Shujin students to spot her floating around.

When she arrives in Shibuya, she only has to wait a few minutes before she sees them enter the overpass, walking closer together than she usually sees them. They look anxious; she knows she must too. She pockets their phone to wave them over, and Ann gives her a wave back as they approach.

Ryuji leans against the handrail and looks at her sideways. “What’s going on, Queen? I don’t see Joker here.”

“You won’t. I didn’t text him.”

Ann smiles, but she doesn’t seem happy. “This is about the fight.”

She tucks her hair behind her ear nervously. “I need your help.”

Ann raises her eyebrows. “Mako-chan… I mean, you know we want to help. But I don’t think Ryuji and I are gonna have a lot of sway over the student council.”

“You don’t need to. We’re not taking this to the student council.”

Ryuji’s posture shifts, his eyes sparking with interest. “Yeah? So then what’s plan B?”

She takes out her cell phone, gives them both a meaningful look. “We’re going underground.”

“You want to go to Mementos?” Squeaks Ann. Simultaneously, Ryuji’s curiosity breaks out into a grin. “Hell yeah, dude! Let’s do it!”

Makoto rolls her eyes, surprised as usual by how long her friends managed to do this without getting caught before her. “Yes, Ann. We’re doing that.”

Ann’s shock tempers into concern, and she takes a step closer. “Without Akira? Is that… a good idea?”

“Do you have a better one?”

Neither of them respond. She pockets her phone again and crosses her arms.

“Look, I’ve already checked the Nav - he doesn’t have a palace, obviously, so Ito must be down there somewhere. No way he doesn’t have some sort of shadow lurking around. I’ll try with the student council - I’ve tried, believe me, but they’re not going to buy it. Akira - we can’t afford what happens next. This is our option.”

Ryuji frowns. “I mean, yeah. I’m all about taking these guys down the old fashioned way. But, uh, why aren’t we letting him in on this? For that matter, why aren’t we letting Yusuke in on this? Seems like it’s kind of their business, right?”

She sighs. “Akira doesn’t… want to do things this way. I’ve already talked to him about it. His principles are impressive, but I believe that in this situation, they are misplaced. We don’t have time, and I don’t want to make his life any harder than it already is. As for Yusuke… I think he’d join us if he could, but keeping that a secret from Akira would be challenging, to say the least.”

For a few moments, Ann looks shrunken into herself as she mulls it over. Then she looks up, with an expression of resolve. “Okay. We’ll do it.”

Ryuji shrugs. “I’m not really sure what you’re talking about as far as Yusuke goes, but you’re right. Akira needs a break. We can take care of this.”

Makoto shakes her head. “We’re close, but we need help. Do you think either of you can talk to Morgana without him around?”

Ann nods. “I can do it. I’ll stop by the cafe tonight. Mona wanders around outside sometimes.”

“Good. We can go tomorrow, then. I don’t think I can keep the student council from making a decision for much longer.” She pauses, hesitates. “Thank you. For trusting me.”

Ann smiles. “Of course we trust you, Makoto. You’re our friend. I just hope we’re doing the right thing.”

Makoto laughs, without much humor. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the 2 month wait for an update followed by kinda a short chapter, folks! It turns out, graduate school is a heckuva time suck (who knew?)
> 
> Thanks for bearing with the change in perspective, too. There's gonna be a bit more of that moving forward, which I realize isn't everyone's cup of tea. Rest assured this story is still mostly about Akira and Yusuke.


	9. Chapter 9

They meet at the entrance to the subway about half an hour after school gets out. It takes a minute for everyone to arrive - they stagger, trying to keep a low profile. The hardest part is corralling Morgana away without Akira getting suspicious. Akira’s working that night anyway, luckily, so he’s preoccupied for the next few hours at least. If they can make this quick, it’ll be fine.

It’s a pretty big if. They’ve never done this without him before. She’s never done this without him before. She’s not even sure the app is going to work, not till the moment that she taps the icon and the world shifts. It’s impossible not to feel like there’s something missing, when they look between the four of them and there’s no flash of red, no coattails billowing back as he dashes into the unknown.

She steels her resolve and turns to Morgana. “Further down?”

Morgana nods. “Let’s go.”

They do their best to avoid other shadows on the way down, though it’s not a perfect science. They don’t negotiate, when they do. The shadows don’t seem to want to talk without him around, so it’s a bloodbath. Fine by her. Honestly, she’s been needing something this cathartic for a while. Ann, Ryuji, and Morgana don’t seem to mind either.

They go down about a dozen levels, and she’s starting to get worried about how long they can keep this up when Morgana perks up. “Here. She’s here.”

“She?” Ryuji scowls. “Thought the kid who beat up Joker was a guy.”

“He was, but he had friends with him. It could be one of them.” Makoto frowns. “I don't know. Maybe we should wait and see if we can find Ito instead.”

Morgana shakes their head. “Maybe, but he could be anywhere. We shouldn’t let a found target go to waste.”

Ryuji nods. “Hell yeah. Let’s get this girl and keep on going. Ito’s next, mark my words.”

Ann nods in agreement.

Makoto smiles. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

Down a corridor and through a barrier, the fog clears to reveal a shadow in a Shujin uniform. She seems surprised by their arrival for a second, but when she sees Makoto, she rolls her eyes. “Oh. It’s you.”

Makoto scowls. She knows most of Shujin’s student body, she just has to get past the warped image cast by the shadow’s glowing eyes, her twisted up face. Her eyes widen as she places the name. “Noriko Imai?”

“Who?” Asks Ryuji.

Makoto shakes her head. “She made a statement to my vice-president, she said Akira and Yusuke were harassing her. She was at the diner with them.”

“They were harassing me.” Barks the shadow, voice metallic. “That kid with the blue-hair came over and started yelling at us, it was scary! I don’t know why you’re so mad at me when those guys were the jerks.”

“You lied.” Makoto snaps. “In an official statement, you lied. Just to try to get them in trouble. They weren’t flirting with you, and they didn’t attack you.”

“Oh, please, like it’s such a big deal to lie to the student council. Do you have any idea how pathetic you sound? You’re just a bunch of delinquents. Thank god the boys were there to protect us.”

Ann scoffs. “Relying on boys to protect you from a threat you made up? And you’re calling her pathetic?”

“Shut up!” The shadow snaps, and her frame bursts open into a thousand pieces of black to reveal a high pixie flitting through the air, flanked by an Orobas on each side.“You’d better back off or you’re going to be in serious trouble!”

Ryuji breaks into a grin, punching his fists together. “Now you’re speaking my language!” He pulls his hands apart and sets off a blast of electricity which goes rippling across one of her wings. It doesn’t seem to do much damage.

She shrieks, firing off a blast of psychic energy at Morgana, who hisses and draws their slingshot. The pixie goes down, and her companions snarl, digging their hooves into the ground. Ann holds up an arm to protect herself as one of them jumps up and kicks at her face. As it steps back, she looks fine - no blood or bruises, but she falls to the ground with a shriek of pain anyway, and Makoto shivers. She and Ryuji step in front of her protectively and the other Orobas attacks him, too, swiping a paw at his arm - he flinches, but he stays standing.

Ann gets back to her feet, and so does the pixie, darting around in the air. Ann pulls out her whip and fire lashes out of its tip at both the horses, who snarl back. A blast of wind for Morgana brings one of them down to the ground, and Ryuji finishes it off with a blow to the head.

The pixie shrieks, and she blasts off a burst of psychic energy again - but this time, it hits Makoto, and she falls.

The world’s a blur. She doesn’t know which direction is up, and thinks she might have been sick, but she’s not sure. She’s not sure of anything, it feels like floating outside her body, but at the same time like she’s trapped in it. Her ears are ringing, and she’s in pain.

She hates psychic attacks.

She doesn’t know how long she stays like that. When she comes to, she’s curled up on the ground in a ball, hands clasping either side of her head. Her upper lip feels wet. The world is still spinning, but she can see clearly enough to make out Ann’s face, just a few inches from hers, concern written across her features.

Ann turns her head back over her shoulder and speaks. “She’s up.” She turns back to Makoto with a careful smile. “You okay?”

“Better.” Makoto affirms. She removes a hand from where it’s positioned above her ear and wipes a finger under her nose. She pulls it away and there’s a line of fresh blood on her glove.

Ann shifts her posture so Makoto can see behind her to where Ryuji and Morgana stand a few feet away next to a pile of ashy, soupy black, watching them. “We took Imai down. She said she was sorry for lying and that she was going to tell the truth from now on. Whatever that means. I healed you, but be careful getting up, okay?”

 

Makoto nods. She pushes herself up to her seat, then takes Ann’s hand as she pulls herself to standing. She takes a second to reorient herself, breathing deep breaths through her mouth. Her nose is still bleeding a little. Ann hands her a tissue and she blows it. It hurts so bad she almost falls down again, but she doesn’t. 

Straightening up, she turns to Ryuji and Morgana. “We should keep going.”

“Are you serious?” Ryuji demands, his hands on his hips. “Queen, sorry, but you’re done. We gotta go home.”

She shakes her head and immediately regrets it for the way it sets the world, already canted, into a full spin. “We… what we need is to find Ito. He could be close, we can’t quit now.”

“Or he could be seven levels down and twice as powerful as her. What, are you planning on defeating his shadow while you’re unconscious?”

She flares with anger and takes a step towards Ryuji that turns almost immediately into a nosedive. Firm arms catch her halfway down and set her carefully back to her feet. Ryuji holds her at arm’s length as he looks her over, his expression hard to read beneath the mask.

“Look, I wanna get him too. He sucks. But believe me, you gotta know when to quit.”

“We can come back soon.” Ann concurs.

Morgana purrs. “It’s all right, Queen. The Phantom Thieves will have our justice soon.”

Breathless, she nods.

She makes it into the car without support, but spends the ride leaning against a window, speechless except to give Ann brief instructions on how to drive. The ringing of her ears has reduced to a dull, throbbing headache which makes it difficult to think. She stews in her own frustration until Morgana pulls to a halt at the subway entrance.

Ryuji offers her a hand to help her stand. She declines it, then promptly stumbles two steps forward as she’s getting her footing. He scowls at her, and she sighs and takes his hand, letting him walk her out to the pavement. Morgana transforms and they make their way out of the subway with Ryuji standing carefully by her side.

She can tell the instant they cross the threshold, not only from the change in lighting and their change in clothing, but because she instantly feels better. Not well - her head still hurts - but better. The nausea is gone, as is the vertigo. All at once, she can put one foot in front of the other without falling. Or she could, if she could muster up the energy to move her feet.

The sun is most of the way through setting. Ann waits with her on a bench while Ryuji goes to get them drinks from the vending machine. When Ryuji returns, she downs a small handful of ibuprofen from Ann’s purse with half a melon soda.

“So what happens next?” Ryuji asks, leaning up against the wall next to them.

She shrugs. “I wish I knew. I’ll talk to Imai tomorrow, if she doesn’t talk to me first. If I can get her to recant her story, it’ll at least give the rest of the council pause. But we won’t be able to do much more than that unless we find Ito.”

Ryuji smiles. “Well hell, that ain’t nothin. I’d say we won this round. We’ll just have to make sure you’ve got some better armor when we come next time. I mean, Morgana and I can handle ourselves, but it’d be easier with all hands on deck.”

She winces. “Sorry, guys. I didn’t… I guess I can’t handle myself as well as I thought.”

“You did great.” Ann insists. “Better than I could’ve done, anyway.”

Makoto sighs as she finishes off her soda. “Thanks. For protecting me, too.”

Morgana grins. “Don’t worry about it, Mako-chan. That’s what we’re here for.”

She’s back late, but Sae’s still not home, and she is equal parts relieved and lonely. She manages to take a bath and brush her teeth before she tosses back another couple of painkillers and falls fast asleep.

She’s at Shujin early the next day tidying up the student council office when she hears a knock on the door. She opens it, and Noriko Imai is standing on the other side.

“Niijima-san, I need to take back what I told the council about Koichiro’s fight with Kurusu-san.” She says. “I’m so sorry. I lied.”

It takes all of the self control she’s ever learned not to break into a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading friends! Your author is on summer break from grad school right now so you can expect slightly more frequent updates for the next couple months. Huzzah!


	10. Chapter 10

Yusuke Kitagawa has been staring at his canvas for twenty minutes.

He’s having trouble focusing on his art. He always does, when something’s wrong. Once upon a time, that made his life a living hell. Now, at least, it’s mostly annoying.

He’s not hungry, which he knows because he checked. He’s been trying to keep track of when he eats, since Akira confronted him about it, and he ate an hour ago - just cup noodles with dried seaweed, but that should be enough. He’s not tired, he slept fine last night. He’s been keeping track of that, too. So he knows it must be stress. And it’s no mystery why that is.

He can’t stop thinking about Akira. It’s not an unusual problem for him, but it’s been worse since he heard about what was happening with the Shujin student council. He’s sad, and angry, and powerless. And heartbroken, because he knows Akira feels the same, and because he didn’t want anyone to make them feel that way again. And heartbroken because he can’t help him. And heartbroken because he exists.

And he loves him.

He can’t pinpoint the moment he figured it out. When he started taking him out to dinner? Was that too early? How long does it take to fall in love? Maybe when he saw him in the subway, when he saw his bruised face and felt his heart just - fell. Maybe any of the days in between. Maybe one of the days after. It doesn’t matter, really, because now he knows and now he’s in love, and there’s nothing he can do about it besides sit in his room and forget to paint because he’s heartbroken.

He’s never been in love before. He wasn’t actually sure that such a thing could happen to him. Not in an abstract, artistic sense, but in a concrete one. It wasn’t his situation - being Madarame’s apprentice might not have afforded him the opportunity to pursue a serious relationship, but there were plenty of girls who had tried, and he’d felt nothing. Nothing like the feelings that he read about in novels at school or heard people talk about at gallery shows. Maybe it was because they were girls, though he didn’t think that was all of it. He’d never felt that way about a boy either. Even with Akira. It wasn’t like fireworks, it wasn’t electricity. It was his heart beating fast, yes, but he thought - he felt like if he could just hold him, his heart would slow down then. And they’d just be there together, and be safe.

But it’s not going to happen that way. Because even if they didn’t both have too much going on, and too much to lose, to take that kind of chance, he could never ask Akira to be his. He doesn’t think he could handle it if he said no, and he doesn’t have a clue what he would do if he somehow, miraculously, said yes. Either way, they would be passing a point of no return that he is in no hurry to approach. 

So instead he stands here trying to paint. Trying to think of something, anything besides Akira to paint. Because painting Akira, he’s already discovered, is a non-starter. He’s got a whole book full of sketches and a couple of loose watercolors crowding his closet, all of them incomplete. He’s proud of his skills, but they’re inadequate to capture his image on paper.

He starts painting chrysanthemums instead. Broad brush strokes leap out from the petals, spiraling into abstract designs without much thought behind them. He scowls as he examines the flowers. The art around them is fine, but they’re uneven. Maybe he should start with a sketch.

He’s startled out of his contemplation by the sound of a knock on the door. He’s better with sudden noises than he used to be, but it still takes him a second to calm his nerves enough to turn the knob.

On the other side is his guidance counselor, smiling nervously with a clipboard in her arms. Yusuke frowns. “Maki-san. What are you doing here?”

Her smile wavers a little bit and she tucks the clipboard under one arm. “I’m sorry. I needed to talk to you about something urgent, and I couldn’t reach your cell phone.”

He fumbles in his pocket and checks his phone. It’s out of battery - he hadn’t realized.

Heart beating a little too fast, he nods sheepishly. “My apologies. Shall I walk you back to your office?”

She bites her lip. “Can I come in, Yusuke?”

He doesn't know what to say. Wordlessly, he steps out of the doorway so she can come inside, and she shuts the door behind her.

She pulls out her clipboard and glances down at it. “We need to talk about a fight.”


	11. Chapter 11

It doesn’t take long for Akira to piece the story together.

Yesterday, Yusuke came to Shujin to tell the student council his side of the story. This morning, Makoto texted him that one of the girls who was with Ito had come to the council’s office to vouch for him. Then this afternoon while he was on the subway, he’d missed a call and 5 texts, all from Yusuke, in the span of fifteen minutes.

He looks up Kosei’s address and gets on a bus he’s never used before. The people here are total strangers, and he feels as watched as he ever has, heart pounding so hard he can barely think.

The school is different than he expected when he gets there. He was expecting something more grandiose, modern or wood or weathered bricks. Really it just looks a lot like Shujin, only bigger. There’s a large, open gate, immediately beyond which lays a main building about the size of his school. Around the building, walkways branch out in the direction of smaller structures in different shapes. Some of them look like dorms, others like auditoriums. Even though the buildings themselves are relatively plain, the size of the campus, the way it’s set off from the city around it by bamboo and old fences, makes him feel smaller and smaller as he gets closer in. It’s only once he’s past the gate and approaching the main building that he realizes he has no idea where he’s going.

He curls his hand into a fist and tries to muster up the courage to walk through the front doors. No one knows him here, there’s no reason to be scared. But something about the whole environment is setting his nerves on edge. He feels like he’s an impostor, and any minute now someone’s going to call him out on it, even though there’s no one around he can see. He closes his eyes and takes a breath, counting the seconds in and out.

“Akira?”

He opens his eyes and turns around so suddenly that Hifumi jumps. Cautiously, she lifts up a hand in greeting, looking both concerned and confused.

He sighs, most of the tension draining out of his body in an instant. “Hi, Hifumi.”

“What are you doing here?” She asks.

“I’m looking for another student. Yusuke Kitagawa - I think you know each other?”

She hesitates, then nods. “Not well. But yes. Akira, are you okay?”

He shrugs, smiles a little. “I’ve been better. Listen, I’m not… it’s nothing bad, I’m just trying to find a friend. And it’s urgent. Can you show me where the dorms are?”

She stands silently, expression inscrutable, for a long moment before she finally nods. “Okay. Follow me.”

She leads him to a building about five minutes walk away from the main structure. “This is the boys’ dorm. I don’t know which room is his, but it must be in here. The gates close at 9:00, so make sure you leave before then.”

“Thanks.” He says.

She smiles. “You’re welcome. I don’t know what’s going on, but you aren’t lying. Just don’t do anything stupid, and if you do, don’t tell anyone I helped you. I’ll see you later.”

He nods, and she disappears back in the direction they came from. He watches her leave for a few moments, waiting till she’s some distance away before he pulls out his cell phone. He takes a deep breath as he types out a text to Yusuke.

_I’m outside your dorm. Can you come let me in?_

A minute passes. Two. He doesn’t receive a reply, and his heart is beating faster with each passing second. Students pass by and glance at him curiously. Another minute, and a teacher approaches. He stops nearby, looks at Akira, and starts typing something into his cell phone.

He is moments from running away when the door opens. Yusuke stands in the doorway, breathing hard, face flushed. For a few moments, he doesn’t say anything, and the two of them just stand there staring at each other, each with phone in hand.

Yusuke straightens up, though he still looks out of breath, and steps aside to hold the door open. “Come in.”

He does. Yusuke remains silent as he leads him through the halls of the dorm. Akira, not knowing how to respond, doesn’t. They stop in front of a door on the second floor and Yusuke brings out a key to unlock it.

Inside is a bed against one wall, a desk, an easel with a half-finished canvas on it, and a dresser. The room is so small that the four items take up almost the entirety of floor space within. There’s nothing on the walls - no decoration at all, really, save for a vase of dried flowers on the otherwise bare desk. It reminds him of his attic.

Yusuke closes the door behind them and Akira stands there awkwardly as he slumps into the chair by the desk.

Yusuke speaks first. “Why are you here?”

He doesn’t know what to say, where to start. “I, uh. I wanted to… see you.”

Yusuke furrows his brow. “And you didn’t think to let me know ahead of time?”

“I guess not.”

Yusuke sighs. Akira tenses. “Yusuke, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think… I didn’t want you to get hurt by this.”

Yusuke shrugs. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine, if anything.”

“No, it’s not.” He digs his nails into his palm.

“No. But it doesn’t matter.”

“I’ll fight it.” Akira declares. “I promise, nothing is going to happen to you. I won’t let it.”

“I know that you’re going to do everything you can.” Yusuke says, and Akira reads between the lines easily: he doesn’t think that will be enough. “For what it’s worth, I’m not going to get expelled. Maki-san was very clear that the largest risk would be my losing financial support from Kosei.”

“Wouldn’t that be the same thing?” Akira shakes his head, trying to tamp down on the rage he feels building in his stomach.

“Do you think I’m unaware of that?” Yusuke snaps.

Akira flinches, his building anger diminished by the rebuke. His fist uncoils, and he takes a staggering breath, trying not to cry. “I’m sorry.”

Yusuke’s anger cools, and Akira sees his posture crumple. “Why are you here, Akira?” He asks again, in a tone that sounds like pleading.

Akira sits down on the bed, hands on his knees. He stares at his fingernails, like keeping them in sight will keep him grounded.

“I was worried about you. I was so worried I wasn’t thinking clearly, and I rushed over. I just wanted to see you. That’s all.”

While he stares at his knees, he hears a chair creak, and a weight settle down on the bed beside him. A slender, pale hand settles on top of his own.

“Thank you.”

His heart quiets. He looks up at Yusuke, laces his fingers through his. They sit there in silence for a while as Akira lets his anger drop away bit by bit until, for the first time in months, he can’t even feel it. All he can feel is Yusuke’s hand in his, the way his skin is soft in patches and rough in others. The way that they’re breathing at the same time. In. Out. In.

“I’ll be fine.” Yusuke whispers, and Akira nods, wordless. “It’s a bunch of unsubstantiated crock. I believe they’ll see that. Their understanding of me… they don’t believe that I’m a fighter. An error that serves us, in this case. I won’t let it get to me.” Absentmindedly, he reaches up and tries, unsuccessfully, to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear. “There’s too much at stake for that.”

For he doesn’t know how long, Akira is too dazzled to muster a reply. Finally he smiles, and Yusuke smiles back, and for a moment, at that, he almost loses his words again. Instead, he straightens, though he keeps his hand in Yusuke’s.

“Thank you. I’m glad you’re with me.” He pauses. “I’m glad we’re with each other.”

Yusuke squeezes his hand. “I will remain by your side as long as it takes.”

He feels himself blush. Defensively, he grabs his phone to check the time.

“It’s 7:00 already.” He says, surprised.

Yusuke scowls, retracts his hand. “Perhaps you should go.”

“Yeah. I -” He stops, puts his phone back in his bag. He turns to Yusuke. “Do you want to get dinner first?”

Yusuke brightens visibly, and just barely, Akira sees him blush too. “I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two short chapters this time, more to come hopefully soon. I was traveling last weekend so these didn't go up last Monday like I'd wanted them to - thanks for your patience!
> 
> This is also a good time to mention that the content rating for this fic isn't going to change! This is for a couple reasons, but one of the more important ones is that I definitely headcanon Yusuke as asexual/homoromantic, which is pretty important to me as an asexual/homoromantic person. Hope you continue to enjoy!


	12. Chapter 12

“President, I can see that you’re frustrated.”

“Frustrated?!” Makoto snaps, arms folded in front of her. “What gave you that idea?”

Vice-president Katsuko stares back at her steely-eyed, hands folded carefully on the table in front of her. “Makoto. You have to calm down.”

She slams a hand on the table and stares back at her vice-president, ready to fly off the handle at her, but the expression in Katsuko’s eyes stops her. Beside her, the other three council members are half-terrified, half-stunned by her outburst. And those are the ones that still seem to like her.

She curls her hand into a fist and removes it from the table, straightening up. Angry, but collected. “One of the students revoked her statement.” She says, voice clipped so that there’s emphasis on every word. “We need to take her response as seriously as we took the initial complaint.”

“I’m sorry that you’re under the impression that I’m not taking this seriously.” Katsuko replies, and Makoto doesn’t miss the insult. “However I believe it’s important for us to consider the entire picture. One student out of five is changing her story. What does that tell you?”

“Six.”

“Excuse me?”

“Akira Kurusu. Six students. One of whom is taking the side of a stranger against her friends. Not to mention a student from another school entirely says he saw Ito harassing Kurusu. What does that tell you?”

Katsuko’s gaze remains level. “I don’t know. That’s why we’re not making any judgments right away. What Kitagawa-san told us is disconcerting indeed, but it’s not a smoking gun. We’re keeping an open mind, and that includes considering the possibility that Imai’s sudden change of heart may not be as genuine as it appears. If she’s being manipulated, we’ll find out.”

Makoto’s heart jumps near out of her body at Katsuko’s choice of phrase, but she doesn’t show it. She’s good at concealing most things. “Have you considered the option that someone other than Kurusu is the person manipulating things here?”

“We’re considering all the options, Makoto. That’s our job.”

Makoto remains silent. Without missing a beat, Katsuko changes the subject, moving on to a new piece of council business which she breezes through the discussion of without a hint of noticing the sheer tension suffusing the small room. Makoto adjourns the meeting as soon as they check off their last item of business, and for once in her life, she’s the first one out of the room.

She stands against the wall outside of Shujin, by the fences by the back of the building in an shady, unused corner. She’s pretty sure people smoke out here, judging by the smell. She’s pretty sure if one of them came by and offered her a cigarette right now, she’d take it.

She pulls out her cell phone and texts Akira, head leaning into the discomfort where her skull meets the brick.

_The rest of the student council doesn’t believe Imai is telling the truth._  
They think you’re threatening her.  
I’ll keep trying, but I don’t know how to make them believe her or you. None of her friends have a guilty conscience. 

A few seconds later - less time than she expected - she gets a reply.

_Yeah. about that._

She meets him at the hideout, with a small pit in her stomach. It isn’t a surprise when she spots Ann on the train, nor when they spot Ryuji already waiting in the byway. It is a surprise, a minute later, when they see Yusuke emerge from a different tunnel. And though he smiles in greeting, he doesn’t seem to have been expecting them either.

Akira is last to arrive, seemingly out of nowhere, a characteristic smirk on his face with his hands shoved into pockets. He doesn't look angry. He looks like… well, like himself, and it gives her pause to realize he hasn’t looked like that very much lately.

He smiles as he gets close, looking at each of them in turn. “Thanks for coming.” He sticks a hand into his shoulder bag and a black and white head pops out, twitching their ears as Akira gently scratches their chin.

Ryuji nods and then, of course, gets right into it. “So what, is this a Phantom Thieves meetin’? That why you called us here? We don’t have a target right now.”

Akira shakes his head. “Yes, it is, and no, we don’t. That’s why I called. I’d like to change that.”

Makoto’s heart starts beating faster in an instant. She knows what’s coming next.

Yusuke straightens up in the same instant, and his eyes open wide with excitement and intensity. “We’re going after Ito?”

“Wait, _what?_ ” Ann asks, and Ryuji’s jaw drops. Makoto shoots him a precision glare before anything can fall out of it.

“Only if you’re okay with it.” Akira says, to all of them, but mostly to Yusuke. “Rules are still rules, we’re not doing this unless we all agree on it. But I’d - like it, if you would agree on it. I’m not asking as your leader, I’m asking as a friend. I get it, if that’s a bridge too far - this has never been about us, and it’s certainly not about me. I can figure this out, but I -”

His voice falters on the last sentence, and when Yusuke interrupts it sounds like his whole heart is breaking. “You won’t have to. You’ll never have to do that alone again.” He reaches across the group of them and grabs Akira’s hand, and Akira blushes bright while Ann and Makoto pretend not to notice and Ryuji tries to keep his jaw from opening again. “I promised I’d fight with you, did I not?”

Ryuji, grasping at anything he can find to stay afloat in the conversation, pumps a fist in the air and then slaps it down on the other boys’ joined palms. “Hell yeah, dude! Of course we’ll help you. Anyone being an asshole is Phantom Thieves business, and it’s twice our business when they’re being an asshole to one of us.”

Ann smiles, and while Makoto sees a little bit of hesitation in the hand she extends to join the others, the only emotion on her face is relief. “Ryuji’s right. Let’s do this. Together. That’s what we’re here for.”

_Together_ stings like ice water on Makoto’s skin. Mechanically, she extends her own hand too, and she notices idly that her knuckles are white. “If this is what you want.” She says. The absence of anything further seems to her to hang in the air thick as humidity, but none of the others show any sign of noticing.

Akira grins at them as he removes his hand from the tangle. Not a smirk, or a half-smile, but a grin. He’s happy. “We’ll go tonight.” He declares.

Yusuke shakes his head, a familiar fierceness in his eyes. “We’ll go now.”

She doesn’t know what to say, so she doesn’t say anything.

They slip back into the subway tunnel like ghosts.


	13. Chapter 13

The sensation of transforming into a Phantom Thief doesn’t get old, no matter how many times he does it. Those times are in the dozens now, and he still relishes it - the cool air of the subway hitting his face, the gentle brush of his coattails against his legs when they appear out of nowhere. The solid weight of his mask. It gives him gentle chills. Like someone ruffling his hair. It’s a confirmation that he’s home.

The figures surrounding him in the dark are further evidence of that fact. He loves the way his friends move down here, the way that their ultra-flashy costumes don’t stop them from blending into every shadow along the way. The confidence in their strides when they take out Shadows and the smiles on their faces barely visible beneath the masks, but he can tell. He can tell when they’re smiling without any trouble at all.

He’s still not sure about all this, despite his self-assured air, despite the commanding tone in his voice as he calls out marching orders. He knows that they said it was fine, and he knows they wouldn’t have said that if they didn’t mean it, but it doesn’t make him feel any better about using superpowers for personal gain. And what happens when they win? Will anyone believe him anyway? What if this just makes it worse?

But every time he starts to worry too deep, every time the words let’s turn back get close to his lips, he looks at Yusuke, and the doubt vanishes from his mind. Because this isn’t about him any more.

Yusuke. The thought of him inseparable now from the thought of his hand in his own and the smell of curry on a plate shared between the two of them. Inseparable from memories that come on all at once, so strong it’s hard to filter them out. He misses a strike while he’s dazzled by the glint of his katana and has to be rescued by a breeze from Morgana. Being near him makes him feel like he’s about to explode and then the next moment makes him feel so - calm, calmer than he’s been in a long time. He wants to hold on to that feeling. So here they are. No matter how worried he gets

He’s evidently not alone in his concerns. Makoto sidles up to him while they rest on a train platform, while Yusuke is chatting with Morgana and Ann is healing Ryuji’s injury.

“I’m sorry if I didn’t share in the excitement earlier.” She says quietly, hands clasped in her lap. “I’m still… a little worried.”

He nods. “We’ll be fine. No one on the student council is smart enough to discover the Phantom Thieves just from this. Except you.”

She blushes, and he can see it just beneath the mask’s metal edges. “Honestly, I’m not worried about the Phantom Thieves. I’m worried about you.”

“I know. But I don’t know how to talk you out of it. I’m a little worried about me, too.”

The look on her face is part sadness, part anger. He makes a mental note to give her some space during their next fight. “I just… I wanted you to know that I’m doing everything I can. I just want to help.”

He’s confused, but smiles, trying to look as reassuring as possible. “Of course I know that. You told me you would. And I trust you.”

Before she can say anything else, Morgana hops down from the bench and transforms back into the bus. “We should keep getting a move on.”

So they do. Down another level, where they pick up a few treasures and pick off a few shadows, and then down another. Mementos gets monotonous quickly, when everything looks the same from room to room and road to road. He’s too stressed to be bored, so every level deeper adds to his mounting anxiety. Fighting helps a little. Sitting beside Yusuke in the car, holding his hand and feeling the soft friction between their gloves, helps more.

After three more levels, Morgana abruptly pipes up. “Someone’s here. I sense two targets.”

Makoto looks back at the four of them nervously. Then, eyes peeled, she keeps driving through the dark.

The portal doesn’t take long to find, but they stand outside of it for longer than they need to, staring up at the swirling morass of red and black. Akira’s hands are curled into fists, but he can’t feel his nails through his gloves, so it isn’t as comforting as it should be. Yusuke is next to him, still, but they don’t reach for each other. He looks pale. He looked pale the last time he saw these students. He wants to say something, ask if he’s okay, comfort him, but the atmosphere is tense, and he holds back, feeling unable to break it.

For several seconds, nobody makes a move. Finally Makoto tucks her hair behind her ear and steps forward through the portal. She moves so fast that the others have to rush just to catch up, so they can’t think about what they’re doing.

On the other side, a boy and a girl in Shujin uniforms are curled around each other, his arms wrapped around her shoulders with her hands on his neck. Their empty eyes stare at the portal like they’ve been waiting for them. Which, he supposes, they kind of were. He recognizes them from the fight, but he doesn’t know their names.

Makoto does. “Kyo Ishida and Haruko Ota.” She says, speaking simultaneously to the Shadows and to the Thieves.

Ryuji scowls. “So, not Ito?”

Akira shakes his head. “No. They’re friends of his. They were there too. Ishida didn’t hit me, but… he came close.”

Yusuke flinches. Akira tries to ignore this and instead turns his attention to the Shadows, letting his hands relax at his sides as he settles into his role. “Where are your friends? There were five of you before.”

“Matsuo won’t talk to us any more.” The girl whines.

“She chickened out.” Says Ishida. There’s more venom in his voice than Akira heard when they first met, and he counts himself lucky that he got away as clear as he did. “Asshole.”

“What about the others?” Akira asks.

She laughs, which never sounds good coming from a Shadow. “What, like we’re going to talk to you about Imai? Let alone Ito?”

Akira shrugs. “Fine. Then let’s cut to the chase.”

Which is all it takes for both their forms to burst apart in a fountain of inky goo. In their place stand a Leanan Sidhe and Sui-Ki. They look angry.

He hits first. He doesn’t hesitate. He’s been wanting to hit back for a while now. Which is probably why the blow he lands sends the Sui-Ki reeling so hard, giving Ann the opportunity to light him up, and Morgana the opportunity to blast him with a gust of wind just after. Yusuke freezes the Leanan Sidhe solid, and Ryuji clubs her over the head with a pipe. And in the moment, nothing else matters. What happens next, the past weeks of uncertainty, the way his nose still looks different in the mirror, none of that can touch this. There is nothing better than fighting with his friends, and knowing they’re going to win. It’s so familiar, and so right, that he almost forgets who they’re fighting for a second.

Until the Leanan Sidhe recovers from a blow and shrieks her frustration, hands curled into fists at her sides. “Ugh, what jerks! Poor Imai!”

His stride breaks. From the corner of his eye, he sees Makoto stop moving. “What?”

“Our friend.” She snaps. “The one you hurt. What, you don’t even remember?”

Her pitch and volume increase as she speaks, and she lets loose with a wail that leaves Ryuji and Yusuke reeling. Akira tries to return the attack, but he falters, missing at the last second. He ducks as she returns his attempted blow with a scratch, managing to stumble back into line undamaged. His head is spinning. He didn’t think her spell had connected with him. Is this a spell?

He looks at Makoto. She’s looking at the floor. He looks at Yusuke, and he looks angry.

Before he can put the pieces together, a blow from his right knocks him all the way down to the floor. The Sui-Ki stands hulking over him, and it roars as it brandishes its club-like sword. He rolls out of the way and gets back up in time to see the monster freeze over and then shatter. Black goo drips from its broken form.

Yusuke offers him a hand up. He takes it, pulse pounding through his head, and in one smooth motion pulls his dagger to deliver the finishing blow.

Simultaneously, Ann and Ryuji unleash attacks on the Leanan Sidhe. In a blast of fire and electricity, she falls to her knees and disappears. A girl and boy of 16 emerge from the shadowy pile on the floor. They stand apart. Chagrined.

Yusuke speaks before either shadow can say anything, voice trembling faintly. “We didn’t do anything to you. Or Imai.”

Ota looks like she’s about to cry. “I know. I know you didn’t hurt her in real life, I’m so sorry. We lied. I lied.”

“Ito’s my friend.” Ishida says. “But he went too far. I’m sorry I tried to hit you. I’m sorry he did.”

“What do you mean ‘in real life?’” Yusuke demands. He sounds hurt and confused, and Akira realizes that Yusuke really doesn’t understand what she’s saying. And, with a jolt, knows that he does understand.

Ishida barges on without regard to Yusuke’s words. “I’ll talk to Ito. He’s a nice guy, he just made a mistake. Let me talk to him, I can stop him. I promise.”

Before any of them can say anything else, the shadows are gone.

In the dead silence of the underground chamber, Akira is still. He can feel his friends looking at him, but he can’t take his eyes off the ground. He’s pretty sure he understands what Ota meant. It’s an instinct, but instincts have never failed him before. And he has to deal with it, he has to say something, but his stomach is turning so hard that he can’t take his eyes off the ground.

Yusuke’s voice brings him back to reality, Yusuke’s hands on his shoulders pulling his head upright. “Akira? Are you okay? What was she talking about?”

Slowly, painfully, he steps back from Yusuke. He turns to the rest of the group and keeps his voice level and his gaze clear. “I don’t know.”

Ann pipes up instantly, voice wavering. “She must have been referring to the fight. They said you guys started it, right?”

She’s so bad at lying. He shakes his head. “They said I - we - they said we fought Ito and the other boys. Imai’s a girl. Besides, shadows don’t lie.”

“Maybe -”

“Stop.”

He turns to look directly at Makoto. She’s looking at the floor again, but with a heaving breath, she brings her gaze back to level with his. “She was talking about me. Akira, please, don’t be angry. We came here after Imai told my Vice President her story.” She says, and pauses for a second before adding “Alone,” as if it weren’t obvious. “The council wouldn’t believe me, and I didn’t - I had to do something. It was my idea, don’t blame anyone else.”

He takes a deep breath, which isn’t enough to keep him calm, but is enough to keep him from raising his voice. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you ask me?”

“I was worried. I didn’t want to add anything to your plate.”

“It’s a little late for that.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

He takes another breath, trying to get a grip on his emotions. He looks at Yusuke and instantly regrets it, because the confusion and dismay written so clearly on his face just make him plummet further into his own fear and betrayal.

“We’re leaving.” He says after a moment.

Makoto looks surprised, crestfallen, and affronted all at once. “But - Ito’s still -”

“Shut up.” He says, and he regrets the words the moment they’re out of his mouth for what they do to her. But she does.

He doesn’t have to ask for Morgana to transform. Within moments, they’re headed back to the entrance. No one speaks, and the rest of the Phantom Thieves give him a wide berth on the way back.

Including Yusuke.

He tries not to care about that, but he fails.


	14. Chapter 14

He’s not letting him go home alone.

Yusuke hangs onto that thought with unyielding determination. He ties himself to it, refusing to let himself get pulled into the sea of emotions that tug on him from every other direction. He is hurt and angry and confused, and worried most of all, but he forces those feelings away with obsessive force. He latches on to what matters, to the only thing he can do to make this better. He’s not letting him go home alone.

So when they get out of Mementos, he follows Akira onto the subway towards Yongen-Jaya, away from Kosei. Akira hardly seems to notice. If Yusuke didn’t know before that something was wrong, that would be evidence enough. Akira isn’t the type of person who doesn’t notice when he’s being followed.

He watches him on the subway from a few seats away. He’s curled almost into a ball, his knees locked together, arms folded in his lap, torso and head drooping down. Yusuke is used to Akira being larger than life, like his confidence actually takes up space in the room. The way he’s hunching into himself now is uncomfortably close to how he looked when Yusuke saw him with a blue bruise over his eye last week. It’s similar to how he looks when he tells his arrest story, but his discomfort then is always tempered by a layer of steel, the kind of resilience that inevitably develops when you tell a story like that enough times. The kind that Yusuke knows personally.

There’s no steel in Akira now, and it’s unsettling, but Yusuke finds he’s fine with it. Not that he enjoys seeing him this way; he doesn’t. Akira defeated is something he never wanted to see. But the way he’s acting makes him want to be around him more, not less. It’s simpler than he thought was ever possible to simply be there for him.

Akira doesn’t talk to him until they get off the train at Yongen-Jaya, settling into step with him as they exit the subway and enter the narrow backstreets. “Are you coming to Leblanc?” He asks.

 _I want to see Sayuri_ , Yusuke thinks. An easy excuse. But when he opens his mouth, that’s not what comes out. “I want to stay with you.”

Despite the fact that he’s already rattled, Akira is only taken aback for a second before replying. “Yusuke… no offense, but I’m not good company right now.”

“I know.” He says, too quickly, and Akira’s patient expression gets a little more stressed, but he keeps on. “I’m sorry. If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to talk about it. I’m not asking… I just want to stay with you. That’s all.”

Akira’s brow knits as he mulls it over, then he sighs. “If Sojiro’s okay with it.”

And Yusuke’s heart leaps, because of course Sojiro’s okay with it. He’s only surprised by the notion of him staying for the night for about five seconds before he darts to the back of the kitchen and emerges with two plates of reheated curry. “I’d make you some fresh, but I have to go home.” He turns and looks at Akira, eyes playful under a stern expression. “Don’t get up to any trouble while I’m gone, yeah?”

Akira smiles, with a little more energy than Yusuke’s seen him with all night. “When have I ever done that?”

The two of them eat in comfortable silence, the atmosphere warming bit by bit as their plates empty. Yusuke paces himself, careful not to seem too eager to finish it off even though it’s the nicest, most filling meal he’s eaten in days. Though he’s not even sure if Akira would notice. He usually does - he’s noticed him noticing. Akira’s not someone he can stop paying attention to, nor is he hard to read. Maybe he is for other people, but not for him. Especially not when he’s had a bad day.

Akira finishes his curry almost as quickly as Yusuke does, and he puts his spoon back down in his bowl, and stares at it for several seconds before he speaks. “You didn’t know?” He asks, and his voice is so small that Yusuke has to fight not to reach over and embrace him right then.

Instead he shakes his head firmly. “No. I would never have let it happen if I knew.”

Akira curls his fingers into a fist, and Yusuke’s heart lurches, which it does practically every time he sees him do that. “Thank you. For not lying to me.”

Yusuke flinches, just a little. “Did you think I had?”

“No.” Says Akira, and it comes out too quickly to be a lie. “Sorry, I - didn’t mean it like that. It’s been a long day.” He stops short for a second, and almost smiles. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me, Yusuke.”

Without thinking, Yusuke reaches out a hand and wraps it around the one that Akira has curled into a fist. For a second, Akira’s whole arm just tenses up more - but then he relaxes, and Yusuke lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He rubs circles into the back of his hand with his thumb, feeling Akira’s muscles slowly release with the motion until he can interlace their fingers.

He doesn’t know what to say next, doesn’t know how to make this better. Doesn’t know if there’s anything he could say that would do that, but -

“Do you want to go to your bedroom?”

It’s so much more forward than he intended it to be. Or maybe it isn’t, Akira doesn’t know how he feels about him. Maybe if he backs off he can still make sure that’s the case -

“Okay.”

He looks up from their hands and right into Akira’s eyes, dark and direct. He’s smiling faintly. In an instant, his heart goes from flip flopping to beating like a drum.

Akira slides off the barstool but keeps their hands clasped, half-dragging him up the stairs to his bedroom. Yusuke looks around the bedroom, as if he hasn't been up here a dozen times. “Where's Morgana?”

“I think they went home with Ann.” Yusuke turns his gaze to Akira as he flops down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He lifts his head up to look back. “Is that okay?”

“Is what okay?”

“That we’re here alone.”

He feels like the conversation is running away from him, the reasons he came here tonight slipping out to sea. This can’t be happening, can’t be reality. He’s alone with Akira in his bedroom and the way that he’s looking at him, it can’t possibly be real.

Akira sits up in bed, folding his hands in his lap. He looks concerned, and Yusuke realizes his confusion and fear must have spread to his face. “Sorry. I didn’t… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine.” Yusuke says, too quickly. “You didn’t.” Even though it’s clear that he did. “I don’t mind being here alone. Why would I?”

Akira blushes, but he’s still looking right at him, gaze piercing through his glasses.“Okay. Sorry. I might… maybe I’ve been reading things wrong, but I’ve had a long day. And I don’t want to play this game any more.”

Yusuke doesn’t - _can’t_ \- say anything, and Akira continues, relentless. “You said you wouldn’t lie to me, so just be honest. Do you like me?”

“I’m in love with you.”

Akira looks shocked. The words hang heavy in the room, and he wants to run away. This can’t be happening, but it’s happening anyway. Because Akira asked him to be honest, and he couldn’t say no.

And then Akira’s expression, which has been hurt and scared and guarded all night, breaks into a full-on grin. He laughs, and his shoulders drop, and Yusuke is speechless because he doesn’t know what he expected but this wasn’t it.

“Thank god.” Akira says under his breath. “I thought - for a second, I thought it might have just been me.”

It feels like he has to restart his brain just to speak, but slowly, Yusuke speaks. “What?”

“I’m in love with you.” Akira says, and Yusuke’s legs give out.

Before he can fully hit the ground, sturdy hands grab his arms, settle him down gently, tip his chin up. He’s face to face with Akira with faces closer than they’ve ever been before. “Shit, sorry. Sorry, that was… are you okay?” He asks.

Yusuke kisses him. Akira is surprised for only a second before he feels him lean into the kiss. It is the best three seconds of his life.

He pulls away slowly, realizing his hands have threaded through Akira’s messy curls. He’s feeling too much to know what to say. It’s a relief, and he’s thrilled, and it’s also impossible. “Are you serious?” He asks.

It’s a dumb question, but Akira doesn’t act like it is. Instead he smiles and laughs quietly, gently cupping his face with his hand. Yusuke can feel the calluses on his palm brush against his cheek. “Yusuke, I think I’ve been in love with you for like a month.”

And he kisses him again, and Akira kisses him back, his hands wandering around his shoulders until the kiss turns into a hug. Yusuke buries his face into Akira’s shoulder, and Akira curls his fingers through Yusuke’s hair. It’s heaven.

They pull apart he doesn’t know how many minutes later. Yusuke opens his mouth, then closes it again. “What do you want to do now?”

Akira laughs. “How about we start by getting off the floor?”

Yusuke blushes, and that just makes Akira laugh again, and Yusuke thinks that he wants to devote the rest of his life to making Akira laugh. They help each other up and then Akira’s hand tugs him over to the bed. He curls up into a ball, back leaned against the other boy’s chest as Akira leans against the wall behind them. He doesn’t remember the last time anyone held him like this. It can’t have happened since his mother died.

It’s remarkable how easy it is to relax like this. As if the events of the afternoon never happened at all. As if neither of them have ever been hurt, and no pain is lurking close by on the horizon. The weight of weeks of pining leaves him all at once, and now he’s floating in his arms, and all he has to do to feel him closer is to lean in.

He feels a weight shift beneath him and turns his head to get as good a look at Akira’s face as he can from this angle. He looks like he’s thinking. It’s an easy look to recognize. He smiles when he notices Yusuke looking, leaning his head back to gaze at the ceiling. “I promised you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. I meant that. But I don’t know how to do that anymore.”

Yusuke’s gut twists. “Because of this?”

Akira shakes his head. “Mostly because of Makoto.”

Yusuke’s gut twists in a different direction. “I’m sorry. She shouldn’t have lied to you.”

“Lied to us.” Akira corrects him, and his voice is angrier than it was before.

Yusuke hesitates. Being here with him right now is so perfect, the thought of doing anything to compromise it is hideous. But he can’t stay quiet. “Only mostly?”

Akira sighs. Reluctantly, he straightens up, and Yusuke follows, sitting up in the bed so they’re facing each other. “Yusuke, I’m not… I’m happy, okay? I’m really, really happy that you like - that you love me. But you get that I’m a terrible choice of person to be in love with, right?”

“You aren’t -”

“Please. Can we just… stay honest?” His voice is so small, and vulnerable, and unlike him, that Yusuke can’t help but lean over and grab his hand. The gesture seems to settle Akira at least a little, and the next breath he takes isn’t quite so shaky. “This whole thing with Ito. I thought - I didn’t think it mattered what people think of me, as long as I was right. But we have superpowers, and it’s still not enough to stop this. I want to be with you. I want to be happy. But if something happened to you because of me - I don’t know.” He stops, and his voice gets small again, and he looks away. “I think that would kill me.”

“You aren’t a terrible person to be in love with, Akira.” He looks up, clearly ready to object again, and Yusuke carefully places the hand that isn’t being held in his against his face, which turns him too pink to speak. “I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous. Knowing you love me - I feel like the luckiest person alive, to be in love with you. I don’t need you to protect me. I don’t want something bad to happen, but - when you saved me, that was something happening to me because of you. Everything that’s happened to me because of you, it saved my life. I don’t want loving you - I don’t want you loving me, to change that.”

Akira releases his hand and reaches up to Yusuke’s face, brushing his palm gently with his forefinger. Belatedly, he realizes he’s crying slightly. Akira kisses him gently and he leans into his lips. Three kisses in no more than ten minutes. He could get used to this.

When he pulls away, he doesn’t look so small anymore. “Okay.” He says, and Yusuke grins, feeling a weight fall off his chest. “Okay. It won’t. I won’t - try to protect you. Or I’ll try, anyway. That might be hard. But as long as saving your life is still on the table, I think I can manage it.”

Yusuke chuckles, and Akira brightens, just a little more. “As far as Ito goes, I’ll… talk to Makoto. Honestly, superpowers may have been the wrong direction to go with it in the first place.”

Yusuke smiles. “Perhaps. But I’m glad it happened. I hesitate to think how long we might have taken to talk about this otherwise.” He dodges Akira’s eyes as his eyebrows go up. “If you were waiting on me, it would have been for a very long time. I never believed you might love me.”

Akira cocks his head to the side, laughter twinkling in his eyes. “I asked you on like, six dates. In a month.”

He laughs, and Akira laughs back. Suddenly distracted, he reaches over Yusuke’s shoulder and grabs his cell phone. He scowls when he unlocks it. “The last train left half an hour ago. Do you need a ride home? I might be able to ask Sojiro-”

Yusuke wraps his arms around Akira’s shoulders. Absently, he hears his phone thunk as it hits the floor. He pulls Akira down into the tiny futon with all of his extraordinarily limited body weight, and in a matter of moments the both of them are resting entangled against the pillows.

“This should be a fine bed for tonight.” He says, hand wrapping around Akira’s chin. “If… you’re okay with that.”

Akira takes his glasses off and sets them on the nightstand before adjusting himself so that his nose is nestling into Yusuke’s collarbone. “Okay is one word for it.” He says into his shoulder. To his surprise, Yusuke’s heart doesn’t flutter out of his chest. Instead, its beat steadily slows as his eyes fall closed, heavy after the day’s intensity.

He dreams about music to the rhythm of Akira’s heartbeat. About a painting of the two of them, wrapped in each other’s arms.


	15. Chapter 15

Akira doesn’t dream that night, which is an incredible blessing these days. When he wakes, he’s still in his school clothes and still entwined in Yusuke’s arms. He’s also late, and the morning transforms quickly into a whirlwind. He scrambles through his closet and finds the least-wrinkled version of his uniform he can and turns around too early so he catches Yusuke shirtless, partly changed into a set of Akira’s street clothes, and the two of them somehow manage to get over that quickly enough to get Yusuke out the door to catch the train to Kosei on time. He kisses him goodbye in the doorway unthinkingly, and Yusuke kisses him back, and it’s perfect. He can’t keep from smiling as he runs back up the stairs to grab his school bag. He can’t keep from smiling all the way to the train stop.

But his stomach starts to twist the first time he sees another student in a Shujin uniform, and it twists more with every one of them who boards the train. Yusuke’s question from the previous night is playing in his head on repeat.

_What do you want to do now?_

How does he even start to answer that?

The train arrives too quickly. His heart pounding almost as fast as it did on his first day of school, he disembarks. He calms down a little as he loses himself in the crowd, in the simplicity of this daily ritual. He might not know what he wants to do next, but the most important thing for him to do right now is get to class on time.

Which he does, just barely, squeezing into his desk with thirty seconds on the clock. Kawakami gives him a look with a capital L, but she’s silent. He leans down to grab a notebook from his bag and makes eye contact with a bright blue gaze hiding in his desk on the way back up.

Slowly, he sits back up. His eyes wander over to Ann, just a desk over. She’s avoiding looking at him studiously.

His phone buzzes with a text from her. He slides it into his desk to read, carefully avoiding Morgana.

_I’m sorry._

Morgana can’t talk in class, or text. But he takes the feeling of their head brushing up against his hand to be their version of an apology.

He scratches behind their ears with one hand as he reaches over and taps Ann on the shoulder with the other.

She looks surprised. He smiles.

“Can I borrow a pencil?”

She smiles back.

His stomach is starting to settle, but he can’t focus all through class anyway. Ann approaches him when the lunch bell rings, hands tucking her hair nervously behind her ears.

“Do you, um. Do you wanna go up to the roof to eat with Ryuji?”

He smiles. “That would be nice.”

They’re about halfway there when a voice from behind stops the two of them in their tracks.

“Akira!”

They turn. Makoto is standing smack in the middle of the hallway, looking a little haggard. She clutches a pile of books to her chest like a shield.

Ann’s expression falls, and Akira feels his hand grip into a fist without him meaning it to. He told Yusuke he’d talk to her, and he meant it, but it’s too much, too fast, too soon.

But everything today has been too much. And he promised.

He turns to Ann, grabs one of her hands.

“We’ll meet you up, there, okay?”

She bites her lip. “We?”

He grimaces, but nods, and she smiles at him, giving his hand an encouraging squeeze before letting go.

He looks surreptitiously into his bag. “Morgana, do you wanna go with her?”

A small head pops out and looks at Ann. “Are you gonna feed me?”

Ann laughs and takes Akira’s bag, sliding it over her shoulder. “We’ll see you up there, Joker.”

He nods and waves. They open the doors to the stairs and walk up. Reluctantly, he turns back to Makoto. She’s collected herself somewhat, but she still looks nervous.

He does a once-over of the hallway as he walks up to her, and then keeps walking past. “Not here. Let’s go outside.”

She falls into step shortly behind him. They walk in silence as far as the outdoor vending machines, where he stops. He looks around, but it’s virtually abandoned.

He folds his hands into his pockets and takes a deep breath, turning to face her. “Okay. Start talking.”

“I’m sorry.” She says, so quickly that it sounds like the words were full to bursting. “I shouldn’t have done anything without your permission.”

He nods. “You’re right. You shouldn’t have.”

She tenses visibly at his failure to mince words, but presses on anyway. “Talking to the student council wasn’t working. They wouldn’t take you seriously.”

“Wouldn’t take me seriously? Or wouldn’t take you seriously?”

Her jaw drops. “I tried, okay? It’s not my fault that they didn’t listen.”

“So it’s mine instead?”

“No!”

“You don’t have to lie, Makoto.”

“Fine. It’s your fault. Is that what you want me to say?”

“I want you to apologize.”

 

“I already did!”

He shakes his head, temper mostly gone at this point. “You apologized for not asking for my permission. Not for what you did.”

“Maybe that’s because I’m not sorry for what I did! I’m certainly not sorry that I did something! Would you have preferred I just sit idly by while you got expelled?”

“Right, because finding Imai’s shadow helped so much. Did you even think about what Ito would do? About what could happen to Yusuke and I if - when - he got angry?”

“It’s not like I left Mementos on purpose! We were flagging, her shadow did more damage than I thought it would.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Of course I thought about it. Of course I did, I was so worried - why do you think I went after them?”

“I don’t want you to worry about me, I want you to trust me.”

“I do -”

“You don’t. This wouldn’t have happened if you did.”

She stands there frozen for a couple of seconds before she turns around and starts walking away, arms stiff at her sides. Normally Makoto’s stubborness is something that Akira appreciates, but today, he doesn’t have time for it. He follows her.

“Makoto -”

“Niijima-senpai!”

She stops. He turns. Running towards both of them at an intense pace is a ruffled-looking Shujin student, his shirt untucked from his uniform. It takes him a minute to place him as Kyo Ishida. Koichiro Ito is running just behind him. His face is a mask of barely-contained fury. Akira freezes solid, all the anger draining out of him in a second as he tries to keep from panicking.

Ishida stops just in front of Makoto and grabs her by the shoulders, and she jumps a little at the impact. “Niijima-senpai, I need to talk to you, now -”

Ito interrupts him with a hand on his arm. “Okay, that’s enough. Sorry, President, my friend here isn’t feeling well today -”

“No!” Ishida shakes him off with a shrug and Makoto takes her chance to step back a couple feet. “Please, I need your help - he was lying, we need to talk in private -”

“Why don’t we just take a step back and -”

Makoto interrupts Ito, her voice icy. All the uncertainty has drained from her posture. Suddenly, she looks once more like the queen that Akira knows. “That’s enough. Ishida, if you want to talk in private, you can follow me to the student council office.”

Ishida practically melts with relief while Ito’s posture hardens. “Don’t you think that’s a little unfair, President?”

“If you’d like to speak with me, Ito, you’re free to bring your concerns to the council just like any other student would be. However, at the moment, Ishida-san approached me first. So you’re going to have to wait.”

As Makoto speaks, Ito darkens. He takes a step closer to her and his shoulders go up, and Akira feels something inside of him switch. An instinct. Something like the feeling of getting ambushed by a shadow.

“Fucking bitch. You’ve been on that delinquent’s side from the start and everyone knows it. What, is he really that good in bed?”

Makoto’s icy demeanor melts over into fury and her red eyes flash. “I might be offended by that if it wasn’t the laziest insult I’ve ever heard. Honestly, Ito, why don’t you just face the facts and admit that you lost? The desperation is pretty pitiful. Though I guess I should have seen it coming from someone as dumb as you.”

Ito’s fist goes up. Akira is moving at the first twitch of his arm, but he doesn’t move fast enough. Ito’s knuckles connect with Makoto’s head. She stumbles back another foot and collapses to the ground.

Akira’s heart stops, but his body doesn’t. He keeps moving and steps protectively over her. She’s clutching her face with one hand and his stomach lurches, but he doesn’t have time to get a good look before he’s dodging a blow at his own face from Ito. A kick to his knee comes a second later and he crumbles a little as he takes it. Ito makes a grab for his shirt. Before he can get a good hold, Akira throws a punch as hard as he can.

It all happens within seconds. When he looks up, he sees half a dozen Shujin students standing and staring, driven into the courtyard by the sounds of the confrontation. Ito is a few feet away on the ground, clutching his stomach. Ishida is nowhere to be seen. He feels wetness on his fingers and lifts his hand up to his face to discover that his knuckles are bleeding. Just like Takemi said they would.

He stares back at the students. They look terrified.

He turns back, looking at Makoto. She’s still on the ground. He steps towards her and then feels a hand on his shoulder.

He turns. Kawakami is paler than usual, and her hand is trembling, but her voice is strong.

“I think that’s enough, Kurusu-san.”


	16. Chapter 16

Kawakami brings him to an empty classroom. She moves quickly, steering him by the shoulder and avoiding as many students as she can. When they finally arrive, she slumps against the inside of the door, pressing it shut with both palms. She takes a deep breath and looks up at Akira, standing silent just inside the doorway.

“Stay here until I come back.”

He nods. She turns around to exit, but stops herself halfway, reluctantly turning back to him. Her eyes drift down and Akira instinctively hides his bloodied right hand behind his back.

“Do you need to see the nurse?” She asks. She sounds more stressed than usual, and he feels a pang of misplaced guilt.

He shakes his head. “I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

She nods, and turns once again to open the door. As it swings closed behind her, Akira hears the latch close like the sound of a lock bar over a cell.

He’s alone. Compulsively, he reaches for his cell phone, only to realize he left it behind when he handed his bag over to Ann.

He slides into a desk, laying his hand out on the surface to examine the damage. The blood has dried, so he can’t really tell what his skin looks like underneath. He wets his left pointer finger with spit and tries to wipe away at it, but a sharp sting stops him from continuing within seconds. He wonders whether he should have taken Kawakami up on her offer, but remembering that the nurse’s office is almost certainly where Makoto is right now stops that thought in its tracks.

He thinks of how she looked, fallen to the ground, and tries to feel worried about her, but he isn’t. Examining the feeling, he realizes he isn’t worried at all. About her, or himself, or what happens next. He tries clenching his good hand into a fist, and feels no relief, because there wasn’t any tension to relieve in the first place. He feels bizarre, and wonders if he’s in shock. Or maybe this was just the last straw, and he’s felt too much stress in the last few months to keep feeling it any longer.

He’s never punched a person before. It was easier than he’d thought it would be - and he hadn’t thought it would be hard. He enjoyed it, though maybe that came down to who the person was. To all of the moments preceding the one at which his fist contacted Ito’s body. He thinks over those moments. Sitting in their outcome, he doesn’t think he’d do anything different.

The sound of the door opening and closing indicates Kawakami’s return. She doesn’t bother to knock. He checks the clock on the wall and is surprised to note it’s been fifteen minutes already. He must be more out of it than he realized.

She tries not to look like she’s avoiding looking at him. “Follow me.”

“Is Makoto all right?” He asks mechanically.

Kawakami bites her lip, the way she does when she’s frustrated. “She’s… fine. Let’s go.”

In a beat, his anxiety bubbles back up to the surface. He stumbles out of the desk and walks through the door as Kawakami holds it open, trying to keep his composure. The halls are completely empty - lunch must be over by now.

She doesn’t speak as she leads him down the hall towards the nurse’s office, but she pauses before she opens the door and looks at him. “You’re good at keeping secrets, Kurusu-kun. So I’m trusting you not to tell anyone I did this.”

Suddenly, he’s completely baffled. “What?”

She shakes her head and pulls the door open. “Just go inside.”

Not sure what else to do, or to ask, he enters the room.

The office is small, though a little bit bigger than Takemi’s exam room. He’s never been in here before, and the differences between that space and this one set him slightly on edge. As does, of course, the other person in the room. Makoto sits on the closer of the two beds, privacy screen pulled back and legs curled up beneath her. She’s holding an ice pack up to one side of her face and she looks extremely small.

His heart twists. “Makoto, I -”

“Don’t.” She holds up the hand she’s not using for the ice pack. “Whatever you’re about to say to try to make me feel better, I promise you it won’t.” She lets out a breath and reaches for her phone, unlocking it and flashing the screen in his direction. “It’s a text from my vice-president. She was one of the students who saw what happened. Ito’s being suspended, and we’re ending our investigation into the fight. Congratulations.”

Dumbfounded, he takes the proffered phone, scrolling briefly through the text history to see for himself that Makoto is, indeed, telling the truth. “How?”

She shrugs. “I guess she still likes me more than I thought. Since it was just her and her friends who saw what happened, we got lucky.”

“What about Kawakami?”

“What?”

She genuinely seems confused, and he stops, thinking quickly. When Kawakami came to get him outside, Makoto had still been down for the count, had probably not seen her there before she got scooped up by her vice president and escorted to the nurse’s office. And Kawakami, come to think of it, had passed right over picking up the student council president off the floor in her rush to get him out of sight. What was it she had said? That he was good at keeping secrets?

“I just… thought I saw her there.” It’s not a good lie, by his standards, but it’s the best he can do when he’s this exhausted.

She gives him a skeptical look which fades almost immediately into one indicating a similar level of exhaustion. “Well, lucky for us, she wasn’t. Believe me, if you were getting expelled, I’d know about it already.”

He hesitates before sitting down next to her on the bed. She doesn’t try to stop him - she doesn’t even move when his weight settles into place.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

Slowly, she removes the ice pack from her eye, sets it down beside her and looks at him. The left side of her face is yellow and purple in blotches. He can already see some parts coloring more quickly than others, the dark ring around her eye socket creating a hollow look. She doesn’t say anything.

His throat feels uncomfortably tight. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” She asks. “Because Ito is an asshole? Because I was an idiot and went behind your back? I’m happy, Akira. If I had known all it would take to end this was for me to get punched in the face, I would have done it ages ago. I used to take martial arts, it’s not like it’s never happened to me before.”

“You don’t look happy.”

She doesn’t say anything to that. She picks up the ice pack again and holds it up against her face, wincing a little as she does. He carefully reaches his hand out and places a hand on it, holding it gently in place. “Here. Give your arm a break.”

She lowers her arm. Sniffs slightly, though he doesn’t see tears, and thank goodness for that because he doesn’t think he could handle Makoto crying.

“I’m sorry.” She says. Her voice is small, but in the total silence of the room, it seems loud. “For everything. I mean it. I just… I couldn’t stand it, the way they talked about you. The way they looked at you. I spent so many years just pretending that I didn’t know the right thing to do, and then you happened, and I… wanted to do the right thing. But I didn’t, I guess. I’m sorry.”

He focuses on the texture of the papery sheets below his left hand. On the cool temperature of the ice pack in his right, mostly melted and wet against his palm. He stays calm and he looks at her unhappy face for a second longer before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He picks his battles.

“Apology accepted. I’m not sorry that Ito was an asshole, but… I’m sorry if I was.”

She smiles, just a little. Enough to make it worth it. He smiles back.

He removes the ice pack from her face after a few moments, setting it down beside him. “It’s gotten warm. Do you want me to get you a new one?”

She shakes her head. “Honestly, I could use a break. Don’t worry, I’ll get back to it this evening. I’m sure Sae will see to that.”

He hesitates for a second. He feels so much better now than he did moments ago, and he wasn’t lying when he said he forgave her. But there’s something missing still, a secret hanging in the air around his head. He’s not sure if she’s noticed, but he thinks she has. He hopes she has. Because if she has, that means this next part should be a lot easier for both of them. He’s not going to sit around with secrets hanging over his head any longer. 

“I’m in love with Yusuke.” He’s not sure how to say it besides straight and to the point.

She smiles. “I know.”

He laughs as he releases a breath, pure relief. “I told him yesterday. I… think we’re dating now. Maybe.”

She laughs. “Maybe?”

He smiles. He doesn’t think he could stop smiling, now. “I don’t know. I haven’t asked him.”

“Well, maybe you should ask him then.”

“Ask him what?”

She punches his shoulder. “Akira. Obviously. Ask him on a date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took a while to come out, y'all! Especially after that cliffhanger that I knowingly left you with :p September has been... pretty crazy. Look for the final chapter within the next week or so. Thank you for reading!


	17. Chapter 17

Akira sits by the entrance to the subway with his phone in his hands. The sun is gleaming down and his screen is obscured badly by the glare, but he doesn’t move towards the shadow. He’s not really even looking at the phone, hardly - it’s just that if he doesn’t hold something, he won’t know what to do with his hands, and if he doesn’t have something to do with his hands, he’ll end up putting his restless energy into pacing around mindlessly, and people will stare, and he would really rather that didn’t happen. He’s used to it, he can deal with it if he has to - but he’s okay with admitting that he’d rather not have to. Not tonight.

He’s saved from his overthinking spiral by a voice calling through the summer air from a few feet away. “Akira!”

He looks over at its source, and the world, already illuminated by the hot sun, brightens. Yusuke is jogging over, blue-black hair falling in his face as he rushes to catch up. Akira smiles, and sees him smile back. He stops once he’s a couple feet away, resting his hands on his knees as he pants for a few seconds.

“Sorry. Were you waiting long?” He asks.

Akira shakes his head. “No! No, really, it’s - this is when we said we’d meet up, right? It’s fine.”

Which isn’t the truth, but Yusuke gives him a pass, even as he clearly notices that fact.

“Shall we get going?” He asks, and he reaches out a hand. Instinctively, Akira grabs it and holds on.

“Let’s go.”

They keep their hands clasped as they enter the subway. If people look, Akira chooses not to notice. He focuses instead on the way that Yusuke’s eyes wander as they sit, people-watching, taking in the everyday sights of a Tokyo subway car as if they’re something extraordinarily inspiring. Even while they’re talking, his eyes are wandering, but he doesn’t seem distracted at all. It’s remarkable how his attention can be in multiple places and simultaneously be complete.

They get off near the park and take a break halfway between the stop and the entrance. The summer sun really is something, and he’s disappointed with his own lack of stamina. He’d think it would be better, but then again, at least Mementos is cool.

When they finally get there, the first thing he does is buy crepes from a vendor. Yusuke doesn’t try to pay for part of it, and Akira doesn’t ask him to. They walk along the paths with both hands occupied by their food, and Akira wonders if he should have picked something easier to eat so he could have kept his hand.

They hesitate for a second when they pass the boat rental booth.

Akira clears his throat. “Do you wanna… go?”

Yusuke blushes instantly. “I - perhaps it would be silly. We did already rent one on our last date, after all.”

Akira chuckles. “Well, yeah, but - we weren’t dating.”

Yusuke laughs. Akira pays, and in recompense, lets Yusuke row him around the place this time. The view is nice - the one around them, and the one across from him even moreso. He can’t get over how long his eyelashes are. Or the way the light plays on his chin when it reflects on the water. Or the way that the movement of the oars highlights perfectly the muscles in his arms, honed to perfection from the weight of swords and paintbrushes.

It’s late in the afternoon by the time they go to return the boat, though the sun remains high in the sky, the long days of summer creating an illusion of eternity. It’s easy to fall into, in the mood he’s in, and he lets himself do so guiltlessly as they board the subway once more and make their way back to Yongen-Jaya.

At the corner grocery, Akira buys potatoes, beef, carrots, ginger, onions, and mushrooms, and tries very hard to look like he knows what he’s doing when Yusuke asks questions. After that it’s off to Leblanc. Akira unlocks the door to let them in - Sojiro had an optometrist appointment that afternoon, the timing of which Akira had committed to memory the moment his guardian mentioned it. They put on aprons and start with coffee to recharge from their excursions in the sun. Akira makes it. Yusuke knows how, but he always says Akira’s is better, and the praise more than makes up for the time spent doing it.

Once both cups are drained, they get to work. Akira washes rice for the rice cooker while Yusuke chops the vegetables, slowly but evenly. Akira finishes first and turns his attention to Sojiro’s rack of spices. He does his best to project confidence as he selects jars and measures out quantities of each into a small bowl. When he’s done, he mixes them together into a powder that looks a lot brighter red than he had intended on it being.

As he’s debating whether to go through with it, he’s saved by the sound of the bell to the inside of the shop ringing. Sojiro is just inside the doorway, and for a moment he stands there looking absolutely baffled by the sight before him. Akira feels his hand tense around the butter knife he’s holding until Sojiro, suddenly, laughs.

“Next time you want curry, you know you can just ask, right, kid?” He shakes his head, already maneuvering behind the counter to put an apron on. “Let me give you a hand. Looks like you at least haven’t passed the point of no return yet.”

Within minutes, the pile of dangerously red spices has been thrown away. Sojiro walks him through the process of selecting new spices, telling him what each one does and making suggestions for how much to put in. He carefully shows him how to level a spoonful and how to mix the spices together in a bowl without them flying out the edges. They melt butter and flour together in a pot and he stirs it for a long time waiting for it to darken. Meanwhile Sojiro stands behind Yusuke and guides his knife work as he chops up the beef, showing him how to identify the grain of muscle and cut against it. They coat the meat in salt, pepper, and flour before browning it in a skillet. Sojiro tells Akira to add the spices to his roux and immediately the smell floats through the air of the storefront, potent but not overwhelming. Akira’s exceptionally happy that Sojiro came back in time, though he wonders why he didn’t just head home.

They add garlic, ginger, and broth to the roux and sizzle onions, potatoes, tomatoes, and mushrooms in a pan before adding them along with the beef to the stock mixture. It takes longer than it would have for him to make it on his own, but it tastes a lot better, too, served on top of steaming piles of rice alongside boiled eggs and fukujinzuke. Akira and Yusuke chat easily while they eat and Sojiro sets out a plate of wet food for Morgana. By the time the boys are done eating, the leftovers have been packed into the fridge, the pots have been cleaned, and Sojiro is nowhere to be seen.

Akira texts him. It’s the easiest way to say it and remain relatively ambiguous. _Thanks._

It takes about a half-hour for his reply to arrive, while Yusuke and Akira are cuddling on the couch watching a movie.

_Don’t mention it._

He won’t. But he won’t forget it, either. Months later, when Akira sits in a jail cell cleverly disguised as a dorm room, writing love letters that he can’t send. Years later, when they’re bickering about whether it was their first date, or whether that honor goes to the day Akira was punched in the face. He’ll hold Yusuke’s hand when he’s missing Arsene, and it’ll give him the same rush of courage that superpowers did. He’ll hold that courage in the form of a ring, and he’ll clench it in his fist over and over again on a subway ride to Yusuke’s studio the year after he returns from art school abroad. He won’t forget anything that happened that summer, every moment they spent together and every gesture that made those moments possible. He still thinks he’s a terrible person to fall in love with; their lives will never quite be easy, never quite be normal.

He’ll never really give up the fight. But neither will his husband. So maybe he’s not so bad, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnd it's DONE! Thank you all _so much_ for reading along as I worked through my first attempt at a chapter-by-chapter fic. Every kudos, comment, and referral has brightened my day for the last several months and I'm so happy to know that folks were able to find as much joy in reading this as I did in writing it. It's been a really valuable learning experience to try something that's not a one-shot, which I haven't done in years - I know I have some room for improvement there, so thanks for bearing with me!
> 
> Special thanks to:[CocoQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CocoQueen/pseuds/CocoQueen), my beta reader for everything past chapter 12, for their help with everything from plot inconsistencies to my tendency to include way too many commas in a sentence. Special thanks also to my wife, for sitting through more than her fair share of conversations where I told her I didn't know what was happening next, heard her suggestions, then promptly ignored them in favor of my own ideas.
> 
> P.S. If you got as hungry reading the curry-making sequence as I did writing it, worry not: the recipe can be found [here](https://www.justonecookbook.com/japanese-beef-curry/%22). They're using the homemade roux method she links to on that webpage, but you can make a pretty good Japanese curry just with curry cubes from any grocery store.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much to reader [CocoQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CocoQueen/pseuds/CocoQueen) for beta reading everything from chapter 12 onward!
> 
> Title is from "Take it from me" by the Weepies.


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